Journal: Know what you like

I've done this exercise many times, but I recently saw a version of it somewhere and did it again. It helps remind me of what makes a good story. Rather, what makes a good story for me. And who are you writing for anyway? If the writer doesn't like it, will anyone else?

1. Make a list of your favorite stories or characters (movies, plays, books, etc.).
2. What do they have in common?
3. Make a list of your least favorite stories or characters.
4. What do they have in common?
5. Write a story that contains as many of your favorites as possible and don't use the other.

Happy writing.

NANOWRIMO, baby!

Blog entries have been minor during this month, and there's good reason.

I'm busy because...

It's National Novel Writing Month.

Go to www.nanowrimo.org to check out the madness.

Journal: respect

Once we give up searching for approval, we often find it easier to earn respect.
--Gloria Steinem

Journal: Write about a person who embodies this quote. Maybe write the scene where the evolution of the character occurs.

Journal: Ceremony

Last Friday, the sun shone and the temps were in the 70s--not your usual cliche setting for a funeral. Arthur Lee was not only a former military man who fought bravely in WWII, but he was also a Mason.

At his graveside service, men stood sentinel. Beside men in military uniform, stood men wearing suits. The latter also wore small white aprons, white gloves, and a sprig of evergreen in their front pockets.

Taps resonated over the hillside, carried by the wind. The flag was given to his spouse.

The leader of the Masons talked about the evergreen representing the soul. He relayed other beautiful words, but I couldn't catch them all due to the wind. They placed the apron on the casket.

Each of these ceremonies had been conducted a multitude of times over the centuries. I enjoy ceremony. I find it soothing. Ceremony lends dignity to any occasion. Each was absolutely beautiful.

Rest in peace.

Journal: Write about a ceremony.

Journal: mistaken identity

Until last January, my husband has lived in the suburbs his entire life. He has adapted well to small town life, but there are some details about rural existence that he's still learning.

1. Around here people sell livestock at a sale barn. When my dad told him he'd worked at a sale barn when he was younger, he thought he knew what they did there. G thought they made sails for boats.

2. We used to drive by an expanse of land that advertised itself as a Limousine Ranch. He mentioned something about never seeing cars there. He thought it was some sort of car lot. A Limousine is a breed of cow.

3. Earlier this week, he thought it was raining outside, so he peered through the front porch window. On our doorstep he saw a small white bundle. Thinking someone had left us a package, he opened the door to retrieve it. Then the "package" looked up at him. He claimed it had a long snout. It must have been a possum scratching on our front door.

Journal: Write about mistaken identity.

Age spots

My husband has a shiny bald head.

I'm always pestering him to wear a hat. Reason 1. I like hats. Reason 2. I don't want to be married to an old man with a sunspot speckled melon.

This morning I noticed a dark spot on the back of his head and thought, he cut himself shaving. I saw it again later and though, Geez, we need to make a dermatologist's appointment.

As we were waiting at a drive-thru window during lunch, he reached back and felt the place. I said, "Yeah, I noticed that earlier. I hope it's just blood."

He didn't change his facial expression when he said, "Smoothie."

While making smoothies this morning, he dropped a spoon in the blender while it was on. It splattered his face, the floor, the ceiling... and the back of his head.

No dermatology visits after all.