A Smattering of Sonnets for PAD Chapbook Challenge

English: Shakespeare's sonnet 1

English: Shakespeare’s sonnet 1 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I have been knee deep in writing sonnets. Thinking about them, thinking in iambic pentameter, or at least iambic. I have figured it out finally. The iambic thing. Writing sonnets, well it’s a lesson every time I set my pen to paper.

We are nearly done with the challenge, and I am having to play catch up. I wished I could have written one a day, but it’s more like a one ever two days kind of thing, unless absolute inspiration hits me and then I splat one out, and I do mean splat. It hits the paper running and is there without a chance of changing it.

I wanted to include a few here. I told CB Wentworth that I would post some. Her haikus, by the way, have been totally inspiring.

Did anyone else do the PAD Chapbook Challenge by Writer’s Digest? I would love to know if you did.

So because the holiday season is upon us, here is my Festive sonnet—

All Good Cheer

The eggnog sits upon the table top
and whipped cream islands are floating there
We wait for guests to drink the rich stuff up
And clink a glass to wish us all good cheer.

The music plays in subtle waves of sound
And candle light is glowing golden bright
The snow is falling softly to the ground
The peace is here on this, this Christmas night

We wait for Santa bringing gifts of joy
For carols sung in happy songs refrain
A tree for all to reflect and enjoy
As toasts are clinked with a glass of champagne

This Christmas Eve we wish you all good cheer
A pleasure lasting us throughout the year


Then my ‘Divided’ sonnet—

Trust is But a Divide

I trusted you in moments like we had
A force of love and friendship here right now
It took me time to see the flaws unsaid
Divided we stand is what I will avow

In time we may forget the lines that break
I stand on lines you stand right there apart
A split on down the middle thoughts we make
Can we go on this way and not depart

If sides must choose I choose my side it’s clear
And you are wrong as wrong as wrong can be
I must not break this stand I take to bear
And you will go and leave me you will see

We once were strong and now we are broken
These words are worse than when they were spoken

And my ‘idea’ sonnet. This one is inspired by a particular holiday film. A classic. If you know it, tell me.

The Idea’s Ideal

A grand idea call for troops to come
We’ll throw a show and make it big, you say
Ideal it is oh ho let’s go have fun
It’s rather good, idea that’s to day

The girls can do their number sparkling blue
We are in army duds and with our caps
We’ll sing to General, he’s our good man true
A rousing cheer for him, the best of chaps

The war has passed us long ago we’ll sing
Let’s clap our hands and give one last applaud
This man is ours salute him for this fling
As snow is falling and we all stand awed

It’s Christmas now so sing a song to joy
For love and hope and friends we all enjoy



So there are three that are quite fun. I have more, but I want to revise some. And we shall see. I finished up one tonight that has my heart just so happy, despite the sadness I’m putting into it. It’s weird. I am getting to vent some frustration I’m having with Boris.  I put so much emotion into my writings.  Honestly, if you feel your writing is stale, have some angst in your life. It really solidifies feelings.  Anger, hurt, sadness, pain…. love. It all comes out when you write poetry.

So, enjoy. Only two more days of the challenge, then a month of revision. And I still have four more days of Writing 101 to finish up. Aahhhh, I need to get hustling!


I Read, I’m Not Alone – Writing 101 Day 15

“We read to know we’re not alone.”

— William Nicholson, Shadowlands

  • Tell us about a book that opened your eyes when you were young.
  • Describe a life-changing experience with a book.
  • Where do you like to read?

When I was 13 I fell in love with The Three Musketeers  by Alexander Dumas. I was suddenly thrust into the 14th century of excitement, intrigue, and swashbuckling action. It was my first foray into adult fiction and I couldn’t get enough. I remember it took me three weeks to read the thing, and it just made me start craving more intense books. Sadly, I couldn’t keep with the Musketeer theme. I tried reading The Man in the Iron Mask and The Count of Monte Cristo, but I have yet to continue on with those books. I’ve always wanted to finish out the stories, because I love them.

I think The Three Musketeers was what got me started on the swashbuckling/romance/hero man. It made me also want to read more books about France.  A couple years later I was reading Scaramouche and The Scarlett Pimpernel. Both books I fell in love with and as luck would have it, my grandma had all three books in this pretty set. I now have them, though I have never read them again. I keep telling myself that I will get back to it. One day.

Very few books have made a life change for me, but a second one would have to be both Poemcrazy and Billy Collin’s Sailing Alone Around the Room. The former being what has made it possible for me to break out into poetry and not feel silly. The latter really got me thinking about poetry as a narrative without the rhyme. Being able to hit someone with a poem but not needing it to be epic.

Poetry is one of those things people either love or hate. Or for some, don’t get, so they really don’t like it. I love it, and I don’t understand people that don’t get it. My mom doesn’t really get it. She used to write it, and that was fun, but she didn’t like reading it. And her friend who is like an extended aunt to me, doesn’t get poetry. Sigh. Oh well. I had Mrs. B read a bunch  of my sonnets. She loves them, but doesn’t quite get them.

Oh well.

And getting back to reading epic type books. Where do I like to read those? Well, late at night with the covers high and rain on the roof. …….. Okay, that never happens, but I like it. I tend to fall asleep reading these days.

And I don’t have a lot of time to read epic books anymore. I have taken to reading quicker books. I need something I can get done quickly. Books that take me three weeks to read make me nervous.  I want to read them, but then I think about how much time they will take me. When I was young, big books with tiny print made me scared. Now they just make me nervous. I think to myself, “Oh, I don’t have the time!” Hence why I have yet to finish Jane Eyre. I want to. I really do, but it’s long! As is Emma by Jane Austen. Plus it’s Jane Austen. Nothing she writes is what you would say, easy.

But at some point I want to read the rest of the Musketeer books. I want to read Le Compte de la Monte Cristo (I always think of it in French. It sounds better)

Okay so readers, do you like thick, long books? Do any scare you? What is the one book that has changed your life? Is there one book you are afraid to tackle but have always wanted to read? Tell me about it. I’d love to hear.



And Interview With Jesse V. From And Another Thing – Writing 101 Day 19

Hello Dearies. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, so first off, I want to wish you all the thanks for following my blog, giving me encouragement and your lovely comments. It’s so helpful to know people are enjoying and reading my blog. It makes it worthwhile to know that you are enjoying things.

As part of Writing 101’s assignments for day 19, we were to collaborate or interview another blogger or someone we admire. I ‘sat down’ with Jesse Villarreal from the blog And Another Thing. Jesse, who turns 23 tomorrow   ̶   Happy Birthday, Jesse!   ̶   has a sharp wit and his poems are tangy, smart and pointed. A bit dicey, in a good way. No holds barred writing. His blog just turned one year old after rattling around on a couple other blogging platforms. You can see some of his other sharp work on his Tumblr titled the same, And Another Thing . . .

Jesse Villarreal

Jesse has now added in sections on poems, short stories, journal, and photography. Jesse hails from Texas, so we have an honest to goodness southern boy here. Jesse dreams of being a journalist, or tackling journalism at some point, and photography is another big thing in his life. He was born on Thanksgiving, is nervous about the coming year,sometimes worries about sharing his writing (don’t we all),  and doesn’t take good selfies. For which I say, thank goodness. There are enough selfies out there. But I do think this is a pretty snazzy photo, if you ask me. He’s got the poet/writer look, I think. He has also taken to reciting his poetry on his blog. I really think you should all check it out because there is nothing quite like hearing poetry versus reading it.

KB: When did you start writing? What do you like to write best?

JV: It’s interesting because I’ve explored writing for different types of media like film, theater, and print. I’ve recently been exploring radio. It’s hard to pick one because I’ve enjoyed writing stories for each different form. But if I had to pick I would have to say short stories, which is funny because I haven’t written one in a while. The reason being, after I wrote my first short story back in college, I considered it as my official start as a writer.

KB: Where do you get your inspiration? And what is your favorite form of inspiration?

JV: I get my inspiration from love and tragedy. It hurts me to say this but my favorite form of inspiration is tragedy. I’m at my best, I feel, when I go through a tragedy. A hurricane of emotion just washes over me and I feel like the only way I can express it is through writing. 

KB: Okay, so you get a lot of your inspiration from tragedy.  Has there been anything specific recently that has inspired or struck you as a reason to write?

JV: There hasn’t been a tragedy that has affected me directly, in the recent days. I guess the biggest tragedy that still lingers with me, and that I use to get in that mindset to write, is the death of my great grandma. She passed away 2 years ago and I never really talked about it with anyone, not even my family or friends, so I still have a lot of grief there. Instead of talking about it I just write about it.

KB: So the proverbial question must be asked since you are a writer. Do you ever want to be published? Everyone asks it, everyone is thinking of it… So I have to ask. 

JV: Funny. I have been talking to my friends, recently, about writing a book. The main question they ask me is “what will it be about?” I have a few ideas kicking around in a notebook the struggle is picking one. But the answer is yes. I would love to get published someday.

KB: When you are not writing, what is another hobby you have? Does it relate to your writing?

 JV: A hobby of mine, when I’m not writing or thinking about writing, is playing video games. It helps sometimes with my writing, depending on the type of game. The world of the game I’m playing would sometimes inspire me to write a story. For example, I’m currently playing a game that takes place in a post-apocalyptic word, where everything has been nuked. During my journey, I see two people dead in bed holding each other. Automatically my mind starts to wonder what their life was like before they died, you know? Like what were their last words to each other before dying? Stuff like that.

KB: Who inspires you?

JV: Who inspires me? Hmmm… I would have to say anybody that has read my stuff. My friends, family, teachers, and strangers. I don’t think I would have continued to write as long as I have without their moral support. My favorite type of comment to see when I post something is somewhere between the lines of “I can relate.” Because that was one of the reasons I started sharing my writing publicly. It used to be I would only get comments from strangers online, but recently people I use to go to high school with would come up to me at a social event and talk to me about my writing. Which is both great and terrifying at the same time.  

KB: Could you say what you are thankful for right now?

JV: I’m thankful for my friends. I have no idea how insane I would be right now without them. Ha.

 KB: What is one thing you are terrified of, but willing to share with the audience?

JV: My depression and the things that go through my head when I go through the emotion. It’s one of the reasons why I started writing. It’s therapeutic.

KB: So your writing is therapeutic for your. Is there something specific that really helps with that? What really gets the vibe more uplifting?

JV: For me, writing usually calms me down, but it never removes the feeling. What I would do to change the mood is just lay in bed, with headphones over my head, listening to music, and just sulk until the feeling passes. It’s almost an emotional journey for me, and when I return I sometimes have something to say about it.  

KB: Now onto the fun questions. What is the one food you could never give up? And along with a food you could never give up, what ethic food would you choose over any other if you had to pick one for the rest of your life? 

JV: I think the one food I could never give up would have to be burgers. I love burgers. As for ethic food, I wouldn’t mind eating Mexican food for the rest of my life. It’s part of my culture and I really miss my grandma’s mole sauce.

KB: What is the first movie that terrified you and left you in tears, or holy terror, or made you afraid of the dark?

JV: First movie to actually terrify me would have to be The Exorcist, and it still does to this day. Every time I walk into a dark room after watching that movie, I get goosebumps.

KB: You are stranded on a deserted island… first, would you want it tropical or colder up north….. and second, what 5 things would you not want to be without?  And we are not talking survival things, but fun things, or things you can’t live without.

JV:The island would defiantly have to be tropical, as for the 5 items…

  • Pen and an unlimited supply of paper is a must.
  • A guitar. I don’t know how to play but given the amount of time I would have on island I could learn.
  • A volleyball to make my own custom Wilson and name him Jerry.
  • And finally a bike. For no real reason. Just to have a bike.

 KB: The doorbell has just rung. You open the door and there on the step is a box filled with a kitten, a bunny, a dog, and a bird. Which animal do you keep?

JV: Damn this question could make me or break me. Ha. I would take the dog. I’ve always been a dog person. The only pet I’ve ever owned besides a dog was a turtle.

KB: So you choose to keep a dog. What is your favorite kinds of dogs, or are they all favorites? Personally, I am a serious dog person as well. I have mine, and then my parents have theirs, and I love them both.  You do realize we are a minority within the writing community, right? Most writers seem to be cat people.

JV: Ha. I love all dogs. I even love my friend’s dog. My mom never liked cats, so growing up a cat was never an option as a pet for me. I don’t know how to react around cats honestly.

KB: You have just been given tickets to see someone in concert.  Who would it/they be?

JV: I’ve wanted to see Brand New for the longest now.  (KB: I had to look them up, but not bad, not bad at all)

KB: If you could meet anyone in history, or currently, who would it be? Or if you can’t pick one, pick three.

JV:     I don’t know really. I think maybe I would like to meet someone who wants to meet me.

KB: Give me five things you are in to right now.  IE. TV shows, music, books, films, hobbies, etc.

JV: The things I’ve been into a lot lately are…

  •      Creepypastas. I listen to one every night before going to bed.
  •       Coffee shops. I want to work at one again.
  •       Photography. I need to take more photos.
  •       Poetry. I’ve been reading a lot more poetry and even started       reciting poetry out loud in front of a camera.
  •       Journalism. It’s something I really want to do.


KB: Okay, what is Creepypastas?

JV: Creepypastas are scary stories. I like to think of them as scary campfire stories but told through the Internet.

KB: What was the best part about working at a coffee shop? I’d love to inhabit one. I have this coffee addiction myself.

JV: The best part was making lattes. It almost feels artistic.

KB: So you are reading a lot of poetry right now. Anyone specific you think really speaks to you? And do you have plans to record more poetry for your blog? (by the way, I love listening to it. I think how a writer writes poetry can be understood so much better when they read it. Then you really get what they are thinking)

JV: I’ve been reading a lot of Shel Silverstein and I love his poems because of its wit and meaningful message they carry. The poem ‘Mask’ is one of my personal favorites. 
As for reciting poetry, I actually started doing it again this week. Last week, I had this terrible fever and couldn’t get out of bed, but I’m back at it now. 

I’ve been rethinking the format of it all. I originally did it for Instagram, but Instagram only allows for 15 second videos. There are times were I want to preform longer poems and don’t want to speed read a poem just to fit the limit. 

I also want to get more involved with the WordPress community, so I’m even considering reading poems by poets on WordPress.
And I agree with you, poetry is meant to be heard aloud.

So, there you have it.  I want to thank Jesse for taking the time for all my questions.  It was an interesting experience because while I enjoyed doing this interview and I’m not one to do ‘journalism’,  Jesse actually wants to go in to it and enjoys a lot of aspects of it. So it was a flipside thing. Plus I learned a lot of really cool things about another writer/blogger whom I think you all should check out.

Thank you, Jesse, for taking the to answer all my questions. It was so much fun, learned a lot, and decided that while I liked doing this, journalism isn’t quite for me all the time. Occasionally, maybe.










A Moment of Mulch – Writing 101 Day 14

Shovel. Shovel. Fling. I heft the hay fork over my shoulder and the mulch deposits in the trailer. One shovel full after another.

How many wheelbarrows are in a trailer load of mulch? How long have I been doing this? I ask myself as another scoop falls into the trailer.

I mean, it could be worse. It’s a gorgeous day, and the sun is shining in a November sky. That right there is an oddity sometimes. Usually there is fog. Thick fog that never burns off. Okay, I might be exaggerating there a bit.  That kind of fog waits for December.

So here I am on a crisp clear day, doing something I actually like. But boy do my shoulders not like this.

There I was this morning with my sister asking me what I was going to do today. “Oh, I don’t know,” I said casually. I really didn’t. But then I started thinking about the dahlias needing to be covered in mulch for the winter. We are trying something new, so well, I need to get the mulch.

So out of nowhere I ask for my father to hook up the trailer and I’ll load up mulch to pile under the pine trees for the winter.

That was one load ago. Now my shoulders are so tired and I’m feeling that wobbly motion that comes when I’ve over done it. My inhaler is wearing off, and my breathing is more labored. And I’m sure the soup is boiling on the stove. And I have to cover plants tonight. And I can feel the cold breeze starting as the sun has shifted down lower and its not hitting me as much as I would like.

But, now I have two loads of mulch. Not bad for a day that started off with no plan but to be outside. Maybe.


I have no idea if this fits with the ‘rules’ of day 14. But I’m not terribly worried. I’m not even sure what I was going for. It is semi autobiographical since I did think most of this, and most of this happened today. So…..


The Nutcracker – Writing 101 Day 13

Ella watched in wonder as the ballerina’s twirled and spun around the wintery stage. For years she had wanted to see Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker ballet. Now, here she was in a magnificent theater, not far from Rockefeller center and the magnificent Christmas tree. It was truly a magical, wintery wonderland time of year.


My flash fiction is always longer than about 200 words. This comes in at fifty two words. Whoa. I was listening to classical winter like music, and since Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker Ballet has been one I am dying to see one day… It was in my head.

And because I like this image I’m adding it to the post


Artist Mad – Writing 101 Day 12

“Gah, the blue! So stupid!” The woman railed and flung her arms wide, disgusted, at the painting hung under delicate lights to enhance its bold colors. She stamped off towards another painting, her red kitten heels slapping the  white, wood floors.

Behind her trailed the younger woman and man, her arm through his, as she leaned close to his bent head.

“And why did we bring her?” Janell muttered to Todd as they stopped at another painting in the very white, very austere gallery. This was another abstract piece. Slashes of olive green with bits of red, ocher, and turquoise dotted and swirled in an alarming pattern. It was not a comfortable painting. Janelle arched a brow, but kept her comments to herself.

An original Sharon Meyers piece titled "What Doesn't Kill You, Murders You In Your Sleep

An original Sharon Meyers piece titled “What Doesn’t Kill You, Murders You In Your Sleep

“It’s. . . ah . . .” Todd trailed off.

“Horrible! Too bold. To impertinent. Too Imperialistic.”

“Well, um, it’s not that bad,” Todd said, then flinched as the woman rounded on him, her long grey hair snapping, icy blue eyes burrowing into the tall man until he slouched in fear.

“It. Is. Disgusting.” The woman snapped at him, then whirled and marched off towards another painting, pushing through the groups of people holding champagne flutes. They had come to the opening gala of the artist, Sharon Meyers. A celebrated painter if one was to believe the critics. And one usually did.

“Imperialistic?” Janelle asked, but Todd just shook his head and sighed.

By all accounts, or as far as Janelle could tell, the evening had been a smashing success.

Several paintings had been placed in new homes and the curator of the gallery had been all smiles. Despite the railings of a crazy, mad woman who had practically insulted every painting there and the idiocy of the people purchasing the artwork.

Janelle sighed as she watched the other woman rail at another painting.  She tugged Todd to her side. 

“Next time your mother shows a series of paintings, leave her home,” Janelle requested and winced as Sharon Meyers pointed a sharp, red nail at a scared man who was admiring an abstract flower.  “She’s going to scare off any prospective buyers of her work.”

Todd just groaned and reached for another glass of champagne on a tray as a waiter passed by.  His mother was completely insane. But it was art….

I write a lot of critiques, what with book reviews and general opinions. So I decided to forego a traditional critique and write a bit of flash fiction. I had several ideas as I wrote this, and it was quite fun. Ah, those crazy artists out there. Me being one. :P

As for the painting…. Well, it is an original Sharon Meyers piece…. *wink wink*




Let’s Have A Cup Of Coffee And Catch Up – Writing 101 Day 11

steaming cupTrying to catch up my readers seems a bit redundant. I feel like I’m forever updating on current projects, or lack of projects, but let’s see what I come up with just an overview. Or if we were sitting down to coffee, I’d tell you all this. I’m not really up for a conversation, poetry, or interesting piece. Mind fog.

First off, I’m second week into Writing 101 and it’s exhausting in it’s own way. I love it, but I wonder if it’s really helping me. Does this make my writing better? Well, maybe because it has required me to have focus. Sort of. And not really come up with my own ideas. I mean, sure, the basis is mine, but there is a general theme of writing well. And it has helped me take time to practice using social media to promote my posts. I don’t know why I didn’t know how to do that before in WordPress, but I have some of it down better. So, there is some structure. I think.

I’m week two into the Poem a Day Chapbook Challenge, and feeling further and further behind. I have written seven and a half sonnets… or three half sonnets as well. It’s kind of odd. If I could finish those three I’d be further along. I still struggle with the iambic aspect. I get pentameter. That is seriously no problem. But unstressed/stressed still makes me groan a bit. I wouldn’t be surprised if I start thinking in iambic after a while of this though.  But I am having to play catch up constantly. I’m not following the specific rules of the PAD challenge, considering I can’t seem to write a sonnet in 24 hours and move on to the next one. So it’s day 17 and I have less than half completed. Sigh.

My month has kept me busy with life changes, from it suddenly being our family business’s down time, sort of, to health problems, and family health problems and going here and there for such things. I’m so exhausted it’s not even funny. But I have finally started to recoup a bit on my anemia. I spent the summer being anemic and I’m finally into a safer zone but still not out of the water yet. The low iron made it impossible to keep running, which I wanted to do for health reason. But when your doctor says ‘stop running’, you do what he tells you. Maybe next year, because I cannot run in the winter in the mountains. It’s too cold.

I was thinking and semi talking with Caterpickles the other day about a story I sent the 8 Year Old when she was more like the 5 Year Old. Gads time flies. I wrote a picture book and turns out the 8YO still loves the story, and obviously can read it herself these days. I need to seriously sit down and consider a query letter or more to some agents and see if one might accept it. I had hoped to have the book published before Jules’s kids were out of grade school and the 8YO was still only 6. Clearly I am far behind that plan. So onwards and hopefully agent wards…

Does anyone else find that sometimes they get really annoyed with other people that are trying to publish and are telling about all their challenges?  There is one blogger I follow who is working to publish juvenile fiction and it annoys the heck out of me about his methods of submitting and working through Twitter and various other social media aspects. Does anyone else ever feel annoyed with other publishing authors? Or is it just me.

I looked into submitting a short story to Readers Digest after my grandmother read the story and said I should. Unfortunately, because of the high volume of stories RD gets, it’s like next to nearly impossible. So, I’m putting them on the back burner for now, but the short story needs submitting somewhere. I had tried Glimmer Train, Tin Roof, and The Meadows literary magazines, and all rejected my story after an 8 month wait. It’s okay though. I had three magazines read my story.

So, okay, I guess I have something to talk about, right?

For some, this is not terribly interesting, but others might find it helpful. Is there anything you, dearie would like to add?


After Paris – Writing 101 Day 10

It’s a cold Sunday afternoon, two days after Paris. Two days after tragedy and the news is still reporting on everything

“the attack is an act of war by isis terrorist army” says French President Francoise Hollande….     “cities around the world are lit up with French flag colors” says another news station.  “the death toll is now at 132” says an online news service.

We are tuned in and plugged in to any new detail. Twitter, Facebook, CNN, Foxnews….. Check the updates. Stare in horror. Try not to cry.

And yet life seems so ordinary as pans of jars are on the stove chattering away awaiting being canned with something. It’s fall, it’s Sunday, it’s a normal day. But it’s not a normal day. It’s normal for us so far from tragedy. It’s normal for this time of year. But everything has changed.

Had you asked me to sit quietly and observe for twenty minutes two days ago, I might have come up with something terribly different. And I can’t think of anything else that would affect me like coming home on Friday afternoon from an ordinary day out, shopping for pants, to seeing Paris. Paris in chaos…

Paris, my dream place. My one destination that I have dreamed about visiting since I was about 12. I dream in French sometimes.  And it is the one place I have hoped to visit.

Life is kind of ordinary right now as a Fast and Furious movie is on tv, my sister is banging boards and pans as she works on the dishes, and the kitchen is cluttered and full of vegetables and pans for the canning.  It’s noisy. It’s quiet. It’s just home.

Nothing terribly exciting ever happens around here, not that I mind it much. I like being home. I like the quiet chaos of a home. I mean, when I say it’s quiet, I mean compared to cars and trucks and the endless beeping of the backhoes as they put in new water pipes for the town, Monday through Friday, 7am to 4pm. Right now it is relatively quiet. Though I could probably do without the noise of the movie on. You don’t realize how loud a film is until you are in the other room trying to concentrated.

Home is safe. So for those where home is safe…. What is Paris now to those that call it home? Is it safe? Is it even home? How does one go on in life when a tragedy has hit very close to home. For some, right next door. For the man that helped people off the roof of the Bataclan  as terrorists shot people below. So close to home how do you walk outside and even breathe? How does one go on?

I have never been in the middle of a tragedy, nor do I ever want to be. So I can’t understand. I see it from a distance.  Roseberg, Oregon and the shooting there a month ago was as close to a  tragedy as I can think I have ever been. Everything else is far away. It makes you feel a little distant, literally and figuratively , when you think about it.

What is it like to have it a part of your life? I hope I never find out as I live an ordinary life and pray for those who have lost loved ones…….. And I pray for those in Paris……


Down Time, Not Writing Time – Writing 101 Day 9

When I’m not writing. Well, that’s pretty much just my life.  I get up, I take care of the house, I fix meals, I garden/farm… I exist.  Life is rarely me going from one point of writing to the next. It’s more of a “Oh, yay, I have five moments of time in between what I need to do and what I have to do.”  Right now, as I type, the timer just went off reminding me to swish the hand laundry. The delicates that have been piling up for way too long and all us girls in the house are completely out of favorites. It’s a desperate time. It really is quite traumatic when we run out of that favorite blue thing…

There, I have eight more minutes to type before the timer goes off again. My life has down time, for sure, but it’s sporadic. Right now, because it’s cold and wintery, I have evenings as my down time. I don’t take the daytime as I am usually rushing to get everything done before 4pm when I have to get outside to cover rows and rows of plants growing still, and finish up taking care of the chickens for the evening. Basically I have an hour and a half of time shot every evening…. Pardon me, there goes another timer for the washer…… And today it will be even worse as it’s supposed to be even colder, so everything needs a bit more cover tonight.

But when I do have down time and I’m not writing, I do have some other things I like to do. Usually they relate to writing, or reading. I read whenever I can. Right now I have about five books started and very little hopes on finishing any of them. I have a hard time finishing books now because 1. I write more than anything so books get put to the wayside; and 2. I don’t like half the books I start. The one exception this year was the Vampire Academy series and The Lady In Gold. Other than that, I can’t think of a single other thing I finished from the library.  I did have my book review books.

I visit the library whenever I can, but I haven’t taken much time to sit down and just read there lately. I get caught up visiting the ladies and I don’t sit down and read. Granted, it was summer mostly so I couldn’t take the time earlier this year. But I love to browse the shelves of the little library. Shelves I know so well. I could close my eyes and you could put me on any isle and I could tell you what was in front of me. Most likely. I might be a little off since they changed the shelves a little and moved everything over one shelf.

I enjoy puttering outside in the sun, but usually there is something that needs to be done so puttering is more of an actual job that needs doing. Yesterday it was spreading mulch and burning.  But when I can, I have my camera with me and I am busy snapping away for anything from the business, to my cards, to just fun. I enjoy getting up close and personal with things.

Life gets in the way of a lot of writing. The fact that I’m taking time out of my day right now to write is crazy. I should be vacuuming something or picking up something else. There is enough clutter right now to make a OCD person go completely insane.

But not writing gives me a chance to mull over ideas. Which I’ve said in the past. And usually after I do a bunch of writing challenges, I need a break. I should have probably taken a break after October and writing every day, but I liked the idea of a poetry challenge. And I liked keeping up the pace, even if I don’t post every day. If I just sit down and work on a sonnet, it’s still writing. So every day I’m trying to do that. I love it. And while sometimes I get a little burned out, it doesn’t happen enough to give up writing something every day.


Dear Mornings – Writing 101 Day 8

Dear Mornings,

I have given you up to sleep. Not that you have ever been much of a friend of mine, but you are sometimes lovely when I actually do see you. I find you hard to be around when I am so tired all the time and I enjoy the company of Night so much better.  I spent the summer in your company, when the Sun was hot and you were so bright. But at the same time, I had to endure you as I worked on days I didn’t want to. So you are a thing I love and hate at the same time.

When it’s winter, I want to sleep you away because you are cold, but there is nothing better than sitting up and your gentle quietness and enjoy your company with a cup of coffee…. or two. Your foggy days are chilly and moody, sometimes like me. But it’s your sunny bright days I love the best. When you shine with so much sparkle, it’s like a fairy tale.

In the spring you are heralding the day with birds and sun and flowers and warmth that is comforting. In the summer you blaze out first thing, like a puppy, ready to spring the heat on me. You can be delightful, but sometimes you are a bit tiring. You are too exuberant for me to want to be that excited to see you. And in the autumn, you are just right. You are cold and crisp, just enough to make me notice you. You smell of spicy fires and cold mountain air. You remind me of your cousin mornings in southern mountains. I like you best of all then.

But even at moments of liking you, I never visit that much because I spend more time with Night. He’s so much more appealing in my writing state. He gets me. He totally understands that I need his enveloping darkness to feel secure.

Ah, Mornings. I don’t know how often we will spend time together, but one day I hope I will be able to enjoy you more. At least you see me a bit more right now that Father Time has set his clock back.


The Girl who likes to sleep