Random Acts of Violence

His hands closed around her neck and tightened.  As he watched what was happening, he felt like he was doing just that, watching.  He felt disconnected from himself, like the hands choking the life out of his wife belonged to someone else.  He felt terror at this but was powerless to stop.  He squeezed tighter and her eyes, wide with fear and confusion, bulged in their sockets.  Her lips soundlessly mouthed the one-word question "Why?" just before he was jerked violently from his sleep and sat bolt-upright in bed overwhelmed by panic.
The sheets were soaked.  His shorts were soaked.  Sweat ran from his hair, into his eyes, down his face.  His respiration was quick and shallow.  He sat there slowly coming back to reality, wondering what on earth or in heaven (or maybe hell) would cause him to have such a vividly depraved dream, and why, indeed, was he strangling his own wife. 

Off The Cuff

So, they say you learn something new every day.  Today I learned that Snooki has written THREE books!  I am not sure if I find this annoying or encouraging.  Anyway, I am just going to let things flow and we will see together what comes out....  Scared?  Me too.


Once, when I was little, I tried to climb the tree.  The one that stood in my backyard that seemed so big to me.  I found a little treasure.  At least, to me, it seemed.  An empty locust skin or husk that clung to that big tree.  I was not afraid to touch it now that the core was gone.  I perched it on my finger and it's little "legs" held on.  I found this entertaining and played with it awhile and now whenever I see an empty husk it makes me smile.  : )


Well, there we go.  Kinda weird, I know.  But I guess that's just me.  By the end of this year, maybe you can tell me if you think I've got a chance at this writing thing.  I would love some honest opinions.  I don't want to be wasting my energy (what little I have) dreaming a dream that would better be abandoned.  I have too many dreams for a woman my age to still be chasing and I guess it would do me good to whittle them down.

G'Night All!

My Picks For Aspiring Writers

As I am writing this it is 11:59pm so, technically, I am still on time for today.  As it turns out, I left my notebook with Part II in it at work so I guess you will just have to wait for that.  In it's stead, I guess I will talk about some amazing books that I would recommend for any aspiring writers out there. 
The first one is by my all-time favorite author, Stephen King.  It is called On Writing.  It is entertaining, informative and challenging.  Even if you are not a fan of his novels or his style or his genre (or his language sometimes), if you are an aspiring writer, I would highly recommend you get this book and read it.  Then put it into practice.
The second book is by Natalie Goldberg and it is called Writing Down the Bones.  This book encourages creativity and gives you permission to write whatever...as long as you just WRITE.  She gives practical, almost elementary, advice on how to hone your writing skills and develop your style.  Some of the information is "face-palm" material (meaning, when you read it, you will hit yourself in the head for not thinking of it yourself).
One book I have not read yet (but plan to soon) that I have heard is great also is The Elements of Style by William Strunk Jr. and E.B. White.  One of the things this book tells the reader/writer to do is to "Omit needless words."  In the spirit of that advice, these three books are all quite short - very non-threatening.  If you want to learn how to write better but want to spend your time writing, not reading, you will be pleasantly surprised at these information-packed quick reads. 

Part I

I guess I am a day behind again...still...whatever.  I wrote this yesterday but am posting today.  Maybe today I will finish it and have Part II up later this evening (or tomorrow).

The
Author & Perfector of Faith
The
Giver of Life
The
Giver of Second Chances
and
Clean Slates
The
Beginning & the End
The
First & the Last
The
Sinners' Friend
The
Future
The
Past


Have a great day friends!

An Excerpt

Well, I did actually write yesterday but I had a lot of work to do and did not get a chance to blog about it.  Here is yesterday's installment:

Wet and fresh - clean, salty mist sprayed up from the wake of the ferry as it cut through the Pacific between the coast and the island.  She closed her eyes and licked the saltiness from her lips.  She smiled, remembering brighter days from her early childhood before her parents were taken from her.  A time when innocence still reigned supreme.  She leaned forward into the ocean breeze feeling a sense of calm wash over her like the swells of the sea itself.  Her heart rate was returning to a normal pace and, though she wasn't out of the woods by a long shot, she had gotten this far with the baby without raising the slightest alarm or suspicion.


It's not a lot, I know, but I am just getting started at this after all.

Fly, Baby Bird! Fly!

I know this blog is supposed to be about me writing every day now but today, I have to write about something my daughter wrote.  She left letters for us - one for me and one for her dad - here at the house for us to read after she left.  My letter was one of the most amazing things I have ever read and a treasure I will cherish forever.  I really thought I was okay and had come to terms with her not being in the house anymore, with the fact that she is not just spreading her wings now, but actually flying.  I found myself realizing that this could easily be the end of her being part of our household.  I felt like I was standing on the edge of the nest one minute, urging her to spread her wings and get the feel of the wind lifting her, and the next minute she was not just feeling the lift but catching the current and allowing it to take her into the sky, while I am left thinking "Wait! Not yet!" and feeling my stomach lurch as if I were on a roller coaster.  I mean, I actually felt physically sick.  This, I did not expect.  But the words I read a few minutes ago reassured me that I have done my job.  They reassured me that there is a time for everything. This is her time.  She is ready.  Even if she isn't sure of it, I am. 

Here. We. Go!

Well, after tonight, I will officially be an empty-nester.  We got everything moved into the dorm and will finish unpacking tomorrow.  I have one more night with the kiddo in the house, one more bedtime to tuck her in with our special routine (yes, I still do that), one more morning to go in and tell her it’s time to get up if she plans to take a shower.  It seems so strange because I don’t feel like I could possibly be old enough to have a college-aged kid.  Not that I don’t feel the physical aches and pains that mid-life inevitably brings, but everything intangible in me insists that it is still young and silly and rebellious.  At this rate, it won’t be too long before my daughter is older than I am!

All of her life, I have looked forward to watching her navigate the next stage of life, viewing each as a new adventure for me as well as for her, anxious to see the young woman she would one day become.  Now here we are - she is all grown up and I am steadily feeling the years creeping up on me, grabbing at an ankle here, a knee there - and I have no regrets.  Once again, I find myself looking forward to the next evolution in her life with anticipation, wondering what wonderful thing God has planned for her next and knowing that she will rise to any challenge set before her to achieve her goals and find that success truly does lie in doing something that you are passionate about, in doing something you love. 

As she embarks on her new adventure, I will be setting out on one of my own.  Soon, I will be writing every day; I will be pouring out whatever wells up inside of me, be it poetry or prose, fiction or fact.  Hopefully, this will be as interesting for anyone who reads it as I imagine it will be for me.  I hope to keep you entertained (even if it means making you squirm in your seat and think “who IS this girl I thought I knew?!”) while honing my skills and forming a daily-writing habit.  If nothing else, maybe it will at least serve as some slightly altered form of daily therapy that writing has afforded me so faithfully in the past.  Please do me the favor of holding me accountable to my commitment to daily put in writing what normally just floats away in the air.  If I know you are waiting, I am more likely to show up.

Thanks guys!