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Selections from FALL IN LOVE WITH WRITING 2019

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As promised, here are pieces that a few writers from my October 19th, 2019 writing event were brave enough to share with me to share on my blog. A huge thanks for sharing!

Please, let the authors know what you think by leaving even a brief comment for them to read. Keep in mind, these are drafts, rough and unfinished, yet shared bravely!

Writers are insecure. We doubt our words. We worry. We mumble and disclaim before sharing, even with other writers.

Show them some love, dear readers!



Story #1 written by Connie Geissel Prompted from: Nightclub, Action/Adventure, a unicycle Unfinished story 10/19/19 Bestsellers He was good at standing on a rock, solid and strong and had been known to be a fairly good gymnast. His family would laugh as he climbed down the stairs on two hands. But the phone call he received this morning truly rattled him. Sitting down after slowly putting the phone back in its cradle a smile finally came to the surface. He knew exactly what he’d do. Putting his hat on he…

A Dog Sized Space

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This morning, my path was clear when I left the bathroom.
No blocky brown head resting in the doorway, no lumpy beast underfoot and in the way.

Today, I scrubbed the walls of 'happy tail' slashes, knowing I won't need to clean them again.
No more exuberant waggy tail to leave marks, evidence of his ferocious love for us.

Now, the laundry room is roomier, more space for vacuum storage, litter box, and folding of clothes.
His large crate broken down and put away in the garage.

I could be outside 'horsing around', or tackling the list of 'to dos' awaiting to be completed.
I could be working on any number of responsible things.

Today, my path was clear and my walls are clean; but, there is a dog sized emptiness taking up more room than his crate, and I cannot stop crying.

The Love of a Good Dog

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On the evening of the worst day of my life, the day I found my son's no longer breathing body, my wonderful, terrified for me, supportive man brought me to his then home. The shaking had started as soon as we left my brother's house, where my parents were waiting for me, where two advocates from the sheriff's department were waiting to check in with me, where I had to do something almost equally as awful as the events of that May 16, 2010 day. I had to call my daughter, where she was stationed in England with the USAF. I had to tell my girl that her baby brother was gone. I had to speak the words out loud. I had to clutch the phone, willing my arms and heart to her across an ocean of pain and helplessness, as I heard her screams. 

So, after all of that, on the evening of the day my son died, my partner drove me to his home. I remember sitting low in the passenger seat. I remember at some point, how the chattering of my teeth reached my brain, and my brain recognized that it…

Too Sad to Write Today

I'm too sad to write today. My characters will need to wait. It wasn't a bad day. The sun was shining hot and bright, warming my face on this beautiful fall afternoon. The dogs were well behaved. My horse's training moved in a positive forward direction, and I even rode for a bit in the back pasture. Yesterday's workout was challenging, but today my body wasn't overly sore or hurting. Nothing was wrong. Nothing was bad.

Yet, coming in from the pasture, my cheeks burnished with autumn sunshine, I felt the wave washing over me. I tried to avoid it. I did. I distracted myself with Facebook. I ate a healthy dinner. I drank my icy cold water. I walked outside. The cloud followed along, shadowing my attempts. There is no way to escape, because...

I miss my son. I miss his smile. I miss raking leaves with him on days just like today. I miss his dirty socks on the couch and his constant cleansing of the pantry. I miss his silly faces and his beautiful smile and his little …

A Simple Gift of Thanks

Thank you, for writing this book. It needs to be written.
Simple words. Spoken by a stranger as I sat behind my table last weekend.
A beautiful woman strolled by, picked up the story of Mara and Zane.  Reading the back, her eyes filled with tears as she set it carefully on the simple stand.
Thank you, she said, for writing this book. 
She took a step to leave, adding, It needs to be written. My sad smile of agreement, as she stood watching me, wondering, I'm sure.
My eyes stayed forward, to the front of the tent, to the beer table ahead and to my left, smiling as others entered, and my day continued.
Her thank you has stayed with me since they floated into the air, since I breathed in her appreciation. 
I wish it didn't need writing,  that there was no need to give voice to the tough subject of 
suicide. 
Until there is no need for my words, I will  fight. I will speak up. I will be a sounding board for others.
Such simple words, but I cannot forget them.

Blended Beauty

Well, Round One of the most recent NYC Flash Fiction Challenge has found my piece with no points. First time for me, but Round Two begins this Friday, the 13th, at midnight, while I'm camping without wifi. Whoo! Ah, the challenges added to the challenge continue. Sci-Fi-fi, beauty pageant, and goggles were the requirements for the first 1,000 word max story. Can't wait to see what I'm told to write for the next round. Only the top 15/35 stories were given any points. Everyone still writes for Round 2, new groups, new genre, setting, and object. We shall see. No matter the outcome, I write in the NYC Challenges because it challenges me to write what I normally wouldn't otherwise.  Let the game continue, but until then, here's what I wrote for the first round, way outta my C-zone!
Blended Beauty

Synopsis: Through years of evolution, human and animal have merged into one species as Earth     fought against extinction, creating a new and sometimes terrifying, blend of bea…

Suicidal Rage & Grief

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Since I lost my son, Robbie, on May 16, 2010, each day has been a new learning experience. I am no expert on suicide. I don't even know what that would mean. I do know that the people who love and support me have made all the difference. I do know that hearing from others who are members in this awful club helps me understand that the roller coaster of grief I feel isn't crazy, that I'm not alone, and that there is a way through to the other side of the waves of emotion. 

Sadly, I also know that many people have been cruel and said and done horrible, awful, terrible things. Some were unintentional, but many others, done with intention. Everyone handles grief differently, but some need to lash out and inflict pain. 

After originally posting this piece, some people decided to use it as a tool to shame and lay blame. Those people clearly had not read the post, but in an effort to ease the pain of a young woman, I temporarily removed it. 

*Before reading this post, please underst…