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The Bear Attack

Christie, Doug, and Tammy sat in Tammy’s living room reminiscing about old times. These were Christie’s best friends. It started in High School and had lasted for almost fifteen years. Their careers had separated them by miles but Christie thought it was great when they got together. The conversation turned to their current lives.
“How’s your anxiety disorder? Has it been rough since you were attacked?” Tammy asked Christie.
Christie was shocked by Tammy abruptness in changing the topic to something so sensitive.
“It’s tough but I’ll be fine. How about your promotion?” She quickly changed the topic.
Tammy prattled on about her promotion and the interior designer she had hired.
“Look’s nice.” Christie wasn’t listening. She wondered if Tammy was different or had she always been this self-absorbed. Maybe I’m the one that changed, Christie thought. She interrupted Tammy when she finally paused long enough to take a breath between sentences and asked Doug a question.
“My job’s great but Dennis and I are starting our own business.” He went on telling them about his business plan and potential investors. When Doug started going into the esoteric details of business financing and the tax differences of different types of business models, she couldn’t listen to another word.
Christie lifted her glass. “Here’s to good friends and bright futures.”
Christie heard a loud bump coming from a back room. She jumped.

“Did you hear that?” Doug asked.

“Oh, did that scare you?” Tammy looked at Christie. “It’s probably nothing.”

There was a louder bump. Then another. They all stared at each other wide-eyed.

Christie’s mind whirled. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Is anyone else or a pet in here?”

“No.”

The bumping continued.

Christie turned to Doug. “Do you have a pocket knife?”

He fished one out of his pocket. Instead of heading down the hall he handed it to Christie. She glared at him then flicked it open and headed down the hall herself.

“You’re going back there? What if it’s an intruder?” Tammy asked.
Doug also muttered some half-hearted protest.

“If there is an ax murderer back there, I’m not going to just sit here and wait for him to come kill us.” She turned and continued toward the back room.

Christie noticed neither of them followed her down the hall in case she needed help.
When she entered the room, she saw something move in the dark. She held the knife tightly as she flipped on the light. What she discovered was a large, slightly deflated Winnie-the-Pooh balloon floating in the air. It was tied to a chair but it had deflated just enough to put it in the path of the fan. The fan was pushing it against some books and knocking them to the floor one by one. She cut the balloon ribbon. Maybe all three of them had changed, Christie thought, or maybe they had just grown in different directions. It didn’t really matter because she just knew it was time for new friends.

She dragged the balloon to the living room and presented the culprit to Tammy and Doug.

“I just saved your pansy asses from a horrible bear attack.”

Will It Be Good Enough

Today is the first Wednesday of the month and time for the IWSG Monthly Blog Hop. Since I can’t seem to get the HTML code to work on my blog, I’ll post a link at the bottom that will take you to the page where the other bloggers’ links are posted. You might want to check out their blogs and the IWSG website. I’m very thankful to this supportive group of authors and writers. It’s amazing to me how some of my favorite authors were not only insecure about their writing but their emotions ran the whole gamut to even hating their writing.

I was going to write about my NaNoWriMo experience today but something happened on the way to my blog. I saw a post. It was one simple sentence by a writer that wanted to write a book about something very important to them.It ended with the writer expressing the fear that the book wouldn’t be good enough.  I instantly understood that fear.

I’m currently working on a novel with a very timely social theme. One that I feel so strongly about that it just crushes me. I see it. I feel it. I have to write this story. Then there is the anxiety, the fear that hasn’t stopped me but it hits me out of the blue or out of the darkness. Will it be good enough? Will my writing be good enough?

This story needs to be told. It needs to see the sanitizing light of day. But can I do it justice? This story deserves the best. That can’t possibly be me.

Sometimes we find the answers in the most unexpected places. By taking the time out of what I was going to do, to try to support another writer, I found the answer to my own question.

I told this person what I just expressed here about my own fears but I went on to say that I was going to write this book to the very best of my ability in my unique voice because I had to do it.

The rest of my response went like this:

That is all any of us can do. Do you feel strongly about your story? If you were to only write one book in your lifetime, would this be it? Are you willing to write, rewrite, rewrite and edit this book until it tells the story, the message, you want the world to hear?  Even the greatest writers had their doubts. You absolutely can do this if it’s what you truly want to do.

I don’t know what this other writer will do. That’s out of my hands but I know what I’m going to do. Perhaps someone else could get more attention or write it more eloquently but no one has my unique combination of passion and voice.

Sometimes we find our answers in the most surprising places.

Thanks for reading my post. If you liked it check out some of the blogs on the blog hop. The links are on this page:

http://www.insecurewriterssupportgroup.com/p/iwsg-sign-up.html

If you really liked it feel free to share it or follow my blog or both

 

 

Bad Breaks

Daphne downed her third single malt then walked out the door before realizing she had forgotten her hat. She reached into her pocket for her key. It wasn’t there. She had also forgotten her key and her phone. Sara, her sister, had an extra key but with no phone, she couldn’t call her.

“Maybe those three drinks weren’t such a good idea,” she muttered. She checked the windows and doors. They were all locked. She picked up a landscaping rock and broke the back door window. The alarm blared as she reached in to open the door. Great, she thought, the one thing I remembered was to set the stupid alarm. Before she could even open the door, two policemen arrived.

“Evening officers.” she slurred. “Sorry to bother you. I just locked myself out of my house.”

“You have some Identification to prove this is your house?”

“It’s inside with my key and my phone which is why I broke the window, duh.”

“Sure it is,” one officer said. “Is there a neighbor who can vouch for you?”

“I just moved here and they don’t know me.”

Daphne turned to the other and placed her hand on his face. “You believe me don’t you cutie pie?”

Before she realized what was happening, they were handcuffing her.

“We’re going to have to take you downtown,” the older officer said as he clicked the last cuff.

“Great! I love shopping downtown. There are some great stores there. These silver bracelets are nice but I prefer gold.”

“You sure are cocky for someone in your position,” the older cop said.

“What? What? A girl doesn’t have the right to break her own damn window?”

“Let’s see here. What charges do we have?” the older cop asked his partner.

“I’d start with breaking and entering.”

“That’s a good place to start and public intoxication. Don’t you think?”

“Yeah, nice one partner.”

“I was in my own yard! That’s not public,” said Daphne a little louder than she realized.

“Didn’t she touch your face?” the older one asked.

“Oh yeah, yeah she did. Does that qualify for assaulting an officer?”

“I think it might.”

“I barely touched you dammit.”

“Lewd language. Does that qualify?” the younger cop asked.

“I’ll have to check into that but we’ll count it for now.”

“I can’t believe this shit,” Daphne mumbled.

“What was that?” the older cop asked.

“Nothing.” Daphne fell silent after that.

“I like that sound,” the older cop said.

“Silence is nice.”

 

After the mug shots and the fingerprints, Daphne sobered up.

“Anyone you want to call?” they asked.

“My sister’s number is on my phone in my house!” She was so shaken up that she couldn’t remember it.

They passed the men’s cell as they led her toward the women’s cell.  It was full and there was vomit on the floor. She started to panic.

“I remember Sara’s number.”

 

“You owe me. What happened?” Sara asked as they left the station.

“It’s a long story. Please just take me home.”

Sara walked Daphne into her home. As Daphne looked around, she realized someone had used the broken window to get in and steal all of her valuables.

“I think you need to get your window fixed and call the cops,” Sara said.

Daphne just stared at her.

Monkey Business

I gazed around the dump that doubled as an apartment and office on this godforsaken planet on the outer edge of the galaxy and asked myself for the hundredth time what the hell I was doing here. The “Killer Monkey” was a ridiculous moniker the news agencies had given the monster responsible for a hundred kills.

My bounty hunting business was hurting. The bonus on this killer was too big to pass up. His M.O. was always different and he was so elusive. I tapped out my credits on a hunch he would strike here next. I saw a pattern.

The monster had a penchant for bounty hunters. Another detail overlooked. Only twenty of his kills had been bounty hunters. I believed they were his targets. The other kills were to draw them out.

I headed to the local bars that night. I hit everyone within walking distance dropping my name and my business. Walking back I felt uneasy. I could feel someone or something watching me but I made it back to my apartment.

There was a knock on my door. I laughed when I saw a purple toy monkey sitting there. Someone’s idea of a joke, I thought. I started to close the door when the toy morphed into a seven-foot purple monkey with a blaster.

I dove behind my desk as it fired the first shot. I fired two shots hitting him center mass. It didn’t slow him down. I fired again hitting him between the eyes. He went down but he was still moving. I approached him kicking away his blaster. I fired three more shots to his head. He stopped moving. I bound him anyway.

Then I said out loud, “No one is going to believe this shit.”

This started out at about 400 words but I had to shave off about 100 words to enter it into a contest. Guess what…I won!

You’re next

Everyone needs a good laugh!

SKYLINE REPORTS

Two friends were talking. One asks the other why he wasn’t at his fellow’s wedding.

“I hate going to weddings”, he said. “When I was younger, my aunts were coming to me, catching my face and sayng:

“You’re next !”

“And it’s the same to me”, the other said. “But I got away from this when I told my aunts at the funerals that they were the next.”

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NaNoWriMo

Otherwise known as National Novel Writing Month. I’m sure that most of you have heard of it but November, every year, hundreds of thousands of writers from around the world commit to writing a 50,000-word novel in 30 days. Last I checked there were about 400,000 writers signed up this year.

Many have never written a novel and are using this as an incentive to finally achieve that goal. I applaud you for that. Even if you don’t hit the 50K word count mark, hopefully, you will see that you can achieve it and will be so addicted to writing by then you’ll keep going.

Many of the participants have done this before and know that the support and camaraderie will get you a long way toward achieving your goal. Many have done this and achieved 50K words all the time but being part of this group just inspires you. There are as many different reasons for signing up as there are writers who made the commitment.

I signed up to do this for the very first time. Then I got cold feet and was going to back out before I read a blog post by an author I know (by his writing and through FB) and after reflecting on the whole concept of 1,666.666 words per day (yes I did the math) I realized it was a great opportunity to just write without worrying about every single word choice, whether it would be good enough, and all the other neurotic thoughts that are a hindrance sometimes. I have also found a group of people that will band together and support each other through this process. I feel very lucky to have met these writers. They are a real gift.

On December 1st, I will either be jumping for joy or I will be locked in a padded room wearing a straitjacket and I will have a 50 thousand word document comprised of one sentence repeated over and over.  “All work and no play makes Liz a dull girl.” Luckily I don’t own an ax.

Good luck and happy writing to all the NaNoWriMo participants of 2017!

(If you don’t get that reference, it’s from “The Shining”) If you like this post, please share it or comment. If you hate this post, please comment. If you really hate this post make a voodoo doll of me and stick pins in its hand so I’ll never write again –ok please don’t do the last one.  If you’re a NaNo and need another writing buddy my username is LJLeighton.

 

 

 

 

Jebediah’s Crime: A book review

“One of the best books I’ve read in a long time”

Jebediah’s Crime” A Heroic Supernatural Thriller ( Book 1 of The Hinge Series)

by Vincent Phan Tran

Tran’s debut novel is one of the best books I’ve read in a long time. It opens with a gripping scene that will pull you in and keep you turning page after page. The book is set in a place full of magic and the kind of things that fill your dreams and your nightmares. There are fast-paced action scenes as well as heartwrenching emotional moments. The writer does an excellent job of creating three-dimensional characters. There are heroes to love and respect, flaws and all, villains that you will love to hate, hard-fought victories to cheer, and tragedies to mourn. It kept me on the edge of my seat until the very end. Don’t start this book late at night and think you will still get a full nights rest. You’ll end up staying awake until you reach the very last word. I’m already anxiously awaiting the next book in the series.

This review is short and sweet because I hate spoilers.  If you like books in this genre or you just love good writing, you will love this book. I have never read a debut novel that has this level of skillful, compelling, and entertaining writing. You can read more reviews,  learn more about the book, and the author at the following link:

Jebediah’s Crime