869 Words

I am often confused and when something befuddles me I tend to collapse into a state of overwhelm that sometimes looks like anger and sometimes looks like crazy.  It always feels like fear.  

1625 Words

I have a recurring nightmare about driving a car that's spinning out of control.  People gather around and watch me, but no one helps me.  I am afraid it’s a premonition about something that might actually happen when I’m driving – the spinning out of control part – but Dr. Anita tells me it’s more likely a subconscious expression of how I feel about the way things are going in my life right now.  A bit out of control with lots of bystanders who don’t know how to help.  

(I know I promised no excuses...but dang, kitchen remodelers are distracting!)

1896 Words

Jake’s arrival is a pin in the bubble of tension in the room.  The first thing he notices when he steps into Bert’s office is the beautiful woman with the lap full of children, but he knows they are not really why he is here .  “Hola a todos,” he nods to everyone before he instinctively walks to the corner of the room where he is sure he is least welcome. 

(Thanks for reading, dearies.) 

843 Words

The sound of the smugglers’ gruntings, the smell of their tequila soaked bigotes and the taste of their sweat stained panuelos pushed into her mouth all hung on Maria like a lead apron of shame.

(Ridiculous day!)

2410 Words

 I can read words. Sometimes I simply can’t make them make sense in my head.  Like the note in the frame on the kitchen counter that reads: The Cats Are Leo and Don.  Leo is the Bigger One. They Are Brothers.  I read that note for several days before I admit to Andy that I don’t know what all those words mean.  He picks up two cats, one in his left arm and one in his right. 

“These are your cats, Annie.”  

(Thanks today to my partner in creative crimes, Jane Gillman, who encouraged me to get my writing done first, then move on to the day's demands.  It worked, Jane!  I'm finished before 1 PM!)

2239 Words

The tired lines and reflex scowl she supposed Bruce had earned while sitting by Annie’s ICU bed would soften and brighten into that smile of his that never failed to melt her heart.  It was his “I love you” face.  Casey needed to see that face tonight.  

1228 Words

The pen and ink textbook drawing of the muscular man with his hands on a boulder, leaning and straining into a steeply inclined rock with all his might is behind every blink today.  But I cannot remember his name.

(Cold hard facts...I am 9K words behind my intended target for this stage of the rush toward 60.  The name of the guy my character Annie can't remember is Sisyphus...and I'm starting to feel a bit like him.)  

0 Words

I have not been idle.  Just not writing.  I will be back at the desk tomorrow.  Please come back. 

0 Words

Kitchen packing my lovely peeps.  I will catch up.  I promise.

2139 Words

Casey had gone digging into her Swedish heritage for something symbolic when she was considering permanent ink at the almost-past-that-phase age of 28.  When she learned her forebearers in Sweden might have believed the dragonfly flew around checking for bad souls who needed their eyes or mouths or ears stitched closed, she had her tattoo.  
(Are you wondering, yet, what all these words add up to?  I'm at about 30,000 words...88 pages.  Miles to go but on the road.  Thanks for sharing it with me.)

1975 Words

“Well…wow.  That’s a lot of wide open field to mow.”  Bruce loved the way Casey talked when she was fully engaged in a conversation.  Her tone was buttery and warm, her words prose-like.  He was smiling and nodding on the other end of the line.  

2260 Words

Casey flinches slightly at the mention of Annie, then leans with a gentle but intentional thud against the kitchen counter.  She takes a long draw on the Tecate and finally jumps into the conversation they’ve been trying not to have since Jake arrived. “I haven’t talked to your dad yet today, what’s the latest?”  

(Well...look at me posting before 9 PM.  Amazing what you can get done before the whole day is gone if you sit down in the morning and OPEN THE DOCUMENT!)

2239 Words

The swelling in your brain became serious enough the doctors had to drain some blah-di-blah spinal fluid she tells me.  Am I fine now? I ask. Because I feel fine. Dr. Anita smiles again and suddenly - did I close my eyes? - Dr. Rebecca is standing next to her.  Her red hair is shorter.  It looks cute.  I tell her she looks very sassy.  She tells me I look very sassy.  Shiny is how I feel I say.  

2055 Words

Carly arrived at the hospital hopeful, lugging an armload of photo albums that were in a typical Annie state of disarray and mismanagement.  Baby pictures and wedding pictures – both weddings – were stuffed together between pages, but not secured in any way.  First day of school and last day of college photos slid around inside the same slick plastic sleeves as news clippings from Annie’s art openings, Bruce’s ribbon cuttings, and Andy’s trade journal interviews.   

(Good God...it was an awful day for words. Bleh.Yuk.Ew.)

761 Words

“I’m not chasing you up there,” he shouted from the middle of the kitchen, knowing Casey could not hear him.  He reached into the refrigerator, pulled out two beers – one for himself, and another one for himself – then went to sit on the patio alone.  

(It's not as bad as it looks, friends.  It is day one of our ACL weekend, and I figured I wouldn't write anything today.  See what a little accountability helps me accomplish, though?  Leaving this fictional-dysfunctional-family-in-crisis behind until Monday.)

2566 Words

 I squint my eyes because my head hurts and trying to figure these things out makes a roar in my ears.  

794 Words

Dr. Rebecca’s parting words make Jake smile.  He catches himself before he starts to hum, but he can’t kill the image of his mother dancing in her studio to Marvin Gaye, singing the version of What’s Going On that sounded right to her.

What’s going wrong...tell me what’s going wrong...  

He looks into the fear numbed eyes of his sister, his father, and his mother's husband and thinks, “Just about everything, Mama, just about everything.”  

(I know. I know. It appears my commitment is waning. I'll pick it up tomorrow. Promise. Don't judge...it's sushi night!)

1493 Words

Jake can’t bear to look at Andy as he hears the words spoken aloud that they’ve all been processing and pushing aside for days.  

(Just plain lazy today. Having trouble seeing my way through a sticky spot in the story...don't feel like working as hard as I need to.)

1902 Words

“I’m not leaving you, Annie,” he said on the day he packed his last load of tools from the garage.  “I’m never gone.  I’ve just moved.  I will always love you.”  And Annie had been gracious enough or tired enough or drunk enough not to spit in his face.   

2053 Words

Jake is the family star.  No one has ever disputed that.  Tall and handsome with light brown hair and soft green eyes like Bruce, relaxed in his easily tanned skin and his unruly curls like Annie. 

(Got to within 171 words of my week's goal.  I'm pretty sure most of you smarty-panties are wondering why a woman wouldn't just go ahead and write 171 words and celebrate.  Well...just because.)  :-) 

1357 Words

I have been back to the loud machine today.  I have to be as un-drugged as possible for the machine visits because they do not want me to move, which apparently I do involuntarily if I am not awake enough to stay still by the strength of my own will, which seems to be fairly diminished. 

It’s a bad system.  

(Fail today.  Almost 1K words short.  On the plus side, I had a nice visit with a friend...which is always worth a little word shortage. Headed for 11K total by Sunday.)

2236 Words

  Andy tried to be upbeat, tearfully and haltingly describing the familiar light in Annie’s eyes and the cute new crookedness of her smile. “She’s a bit of a bad caricature of herself,” he told them. “Some things more exaggerated than usual.” 

 

(Ugh. It was all work today. Double ugh.)

2226 Words

“¿Qué pasa hermana?”  It had really not occurred to Jake that something dire had happened until that extra second of silence Carly allowed after his usual greeting.  The way she said Oh Jake almost pitched him to his knees.  He braced himself against a wall.  “What is it, Carly?” 

(Oh it was a writer's most wretched day.  I got depressed when I saw I didn't even place in the top 30 - winner, four runners up, 25 honorable mentions (!) -  in a short story writing contest I entered...then I absolutely could not like one single word or thought or sentence I put on the page.  These are the days that separate the crazy from the sane...and yes, I know which camp I attend.  Whew...glad it's over.)

2234 Words

Bruce shifts his shoulders a bit at the door before he opens it, lifting – he hopes – the heavy cloak of dread and sadness he knows he’s wearing.  He pushes quietly at the lock and eases into the entryway. 


(Okay...I know I didn't catch up today, but I did hit the mark...just.  This is how deadline freaks work.  I started by re-writing most of what I wrote yesterday...so if yesterday's sentence seems to be in a slightly different voice, that's why.  I am also wondering how long caramels last, since I opened a bag I found in the pantry and ate about 200 of them while I was pounding away here.  They tasted a bit funny.  Oh well.  Now I'm wondering how late Pei Wei is open...look for a finished book and a fat butt on my birthday!)