Thursday Thoughts: Universal Questions

Today’s thoughts circle around something that most likely plagues most writers. We spend a lot of our time scared. Scared to start a project. Scared to finish a project. Scared to revise and edit it. And once we get past all that, we face our next set of scary things–selling or self-publishing, and not matter which direction out go is the biggest, baddes fear of all: Will the readers like it? So, since you asked, Universe…

What do you now fear, Silver?

How will you use this?

You’re welcome,
The Universe
© www.tut.com

Every fear is a gift, Silver, though every gift needs unwrapping. “Oh look, it’s me in the near future, only more!”

That’s my bear now and always. Will readers buy my books? Will they read them and enjoy them and tell their friends? And the underlying fears are always “Am I good enough?” “Is the story compelling?” “Are the characters worth rooting for?” And the final worry, “How many typos did I miss?” I think every writers out there has felt and asked one or all of these things. At the time, we might not consider those fears a gift but they are. They drive us to be better, to be more creative, to be more diligent. They ensure that we keep working and get from that “Dark and stormy night…” to The End. What about the rest of you? What’s your fear at the moment?

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Wednesday Words: The Real Universe

Wednesday has rolled around on the calendar again and we are inching every closer to Halloween. I won the #ThursdayThreads flash fiction challenge week before last with a snippet from my Cajun Wolves WIP. Still a bit in that headspace, and with it being the spook season, this week’s #1lineWed and #ThursdayThreads prompts–**UNIVERSE: The. Everything. Cosmos** and “They aren’t real”– just kept me rolling with that story, this time with Luc and Sunny, rather than Beau and his lady (who is still yet unnamed. Maybe I should ask for suggestions…) Anyway, I hope you enjoy this expanded version.
****
Luc parked his SUV, locked it and started down the sidewalk. He’d found a spot about a block away. Sunny stood in front of the gate, waiting for him. Her outfit all but glowed under the autumn sun, bright emerald green and purple amethyst. She bounced up and down on her toes as he approached.

“You’re here!” Her smile would light up the gloomiest of rainy days. “Come with me.” She turned and headed through the wrought iron gate. He hesitated and she glanced when she realized he wasn’t at her side. “They aren’t real.”

He couldn’t help himself. He was a Wolf and an unmated one at that. His gaze darted to the curved neckline of her green blouse. “Damn sure look real to me,” he muttered quietly under his breath, making sure Sunny couldn’t hear the comment. By the time she glanced back at him, he’d fixed his eyes on her face once more.

She twirled, the purple gypsy skirt she wore flaring to reveal her shapely legs. Her eyes danced with mischief as she grabbed his hand and tugged him along in her wake. “But they might be.”

How did he get in these predicaments? This was more Beau’s catnip than his yet when Sunny had called that morning insisting they meet at St. Louis #3, he’d come. Cemeteries were not his thing. At least she wasn’t dragging him to Marie Laveau’s tomb at St. Louis #1.

“Cher, I’m all kinds of confused here. What’re we talkin’ about?”

“Ghosts of course.” There was an implied “silly” tacked on the end.

“Darlin’, it’s almost noon. No self-respectin’ ghost is gonna be hangin’ out in broad daylight.”

She danced a few steps, twirling under their clasped hands. “Who says? Show me the rule that states ghosts can only come out at midnight.”

“I’m sure there’s one somewhere. All those ghost huntin’ shows on TV are filmed at night.”

“That’s to make it all spooky and stuff. Besides, those people end up scaring themselves more often than they actually find ghosts.” She stopped dead still, a quizzical look scrunching up her face. “And why do ghosts have to be scary? I mean, really. There are far scarier things out there in the Universe.”

She had a point, since he was one of the scariest beings in the cosmos.
****
It’s coming up on Halloween. What can I say? And besides, these prompts just sort of fell into place and wrote themselves into the story. Writers, any universal things that might or might not be real in your stories? Readers, I can’t help myself. “Are they real?”

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Tuesday Treats & Titles: Faux Onion Magic

My dad was a cordon bleu chef. He didn’t own a restaurant. In fact, the whole idea of working in the food service industry was pretty much his worst nightmare. As a college student in Colorado Springs, he was fired from the Broadmoor Hotel’s main dining room because he couldn’t carry a tray on his left hand. He also worked on the top of Pike’s Peak. His job there was in the kitchen–mainly frying donuts. Quick tip: to clarify grease (which keeps it from tasting burned/yucky) when frying anything all day, throw in some peeled potatoes periodically. All that said, he did enjoy cooking–just not “working” at it. Later in life, he started taking classes and enrolling in cooking schools. Just for the fun of it. Before that, though, he used to experiment with recipes from, of all place, Playboy Magazine. Yeah, my dad was cool. FYI, this was back in the 1930s and then the Sixties. When my parents decided to redo their kitchen, he insisted on losing the electric stove–“You can’t saute properly on electric burners!”–so they had gas stovetop with a downdraft grill and other fancy things.

I give you this historical background because I fixed French onion soup and roast beef au jus sandwhiches last night for dinner. Dad would have started the onion soup first thing yesterday mornign, simmering the beed broth and seasonings and then he would hae added the sliced onions at just the righ time ahead of serving so that they were the perfect texture when ladled into bowls, topped with home-made croutons and round slices of Provolone cheese. He would have bought fresh bagettes at the bakery to use as “nests” for his baby Swiss cheese and slow-roasted, thinly-sliced roast beef (probably prime rib more often than not), with the juices from that slow roasting for dipping. Sounds yummy, right?

Yeah, well. Y’all are probably scratching your heads about now wondering where the heck I’m going with this. Simple. I am not my father. Especially not at my age. I like things simple and easy, fast, and with minimal cleanup. Could I have done all the stuff Dad would have? Absolutely. He’s the one who taught me to cook. Is that what I did? Nope. I opened a can of Campbell’s French Onion soup, added a package of Lipton’s French Onion mix, along with half a can of water and half a can of beef broth. And I let that simmer on the stove will I messed with the sandwiches. I had Ballpark Tailgater Brat buns. I brushed them with butter and stuck them under the grill until they were slightly toasty. I used Oscar Meyer Natural Slow Roasted Roast Beef, sliced, sauting the slices in a little beef broth and melted butter. Then I loaded up the buns, topped with the baby Swis and stuck back in the warm grill drawer (no flame!) to melt the cheese and keep warm while I finished off the soup with New York Bakery brand Texas Toast croutons and rounds of Provolone. It’s like magic. AND also yummy! Still, I’m pretty sure my dad’s up trout fishing on a cloud somewhere looking down and shaking his head in despair, wondering where he went wrong.

The thing about cooking is finding ways to create what you want to eat, in a way that works for you. This is also a lesson for writers. Beginning writers get all the advice. “Plan out everything. Outline. Know everything about your characters and settings. Know everything about your plot. Follow the 3-part arc (beginning/set up, middle, end/climax). It’s the only way!” Or “Have an idea? Grab it and run. Sit down and just start typing. You can fix all the technical stuff later. That’s what edits and revisions are for. Tell the story the way you see it. Let the characters evolve naturally. Be organic.” Yeah, those would be Plotters and Pantsers (and in “by the seat of your pants.”) Then there are those of us who find our own way. I’m a Puzzler. I get an idea and t urn it into a framework (ALWAYS fit the straight-edged pieces together first, just sayin’! 😉 ) that consiset of your idea, a brief sketch of the characters and the setting.

And then I start writing. I actually start at the beginning because I have that framework and I know where I’m ultimately going. Provided I don’t get detoured to a better ending–which has happened!. Also, I do a lot of flash fiction for fun and more often than not, those 250 words based on a prompt turn into a full scene. Those scenes then get put together into chapters and those chapters get fitted into the overall plot and somehow, by the time I get to The End, I have a whole story that makes sense with characters who have surprised me along the way as they reveal things about themselves. Am I recommending this for anyone else? Oh to the hell NO! My brain is wired to work this way. It took me a long time to find the “write” process for me.

Writing and cooking is a lot alike. You can start with a recipe and follow it exactly and turn out an awesome dish. Or maybe you have a family favorite that you just cook up from scratch. Then there are the times when you know what you want to eat but don’t want to hit the grocery store so you take some of this and some of that and mix in that stuff and oh yeah, a little seasoning and VOILÀ ! Now all the sudden, you’re a cordon bleu writer.

I suppose I should mention a title here since it is Tuesday. Okay. Since we’re coming up on Halloween and I keep saying that I’d love to spend Halloween in New Orleans, I’ll suggest THAT OL’ BLACK MAGIC, the prequel to my Penumbra Papers Urban Fantasy series. Sade, the snarkily human FBI agent MC doesn’t cook. This is a good thing. But I know Sade well. She’s lived in my head for about 20 years now. She gets the whole point of this post and she’s alo telling you to go grab–or reread if you already own–her story. Just click on the title or the cover to find the list of on-line booksellers. You can also read it for free with Hoopla. So what about y’all? Are you a by-the-book cook/writer or a that-sounds-good kind?

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Monday Next to Last

Wow. We’re a week away from Halloween. How is that even possible?!?! Had to tell from the weather. Old Mother Nature is all weird again. We went from an early freeze to 90s for highs. Tosay? Back to fallish weather and some much needed rain. As a result, I’m “down and in” rather than my usual Wallyworld run. I’m planning French onion soup with croutons and Provolene cheese accompanied with grilled roast beef and baby Swiss sandwiches. Yummy stuff.

In other good news, it was a decent sports weekend for the teams I like. Stormy’s team won their game and they are in the top four of their age group in the league. Even if it means no coffee first thing Satruday morning, getting to watch him play and enjoy the match is worth the caffeine deprivation. Saturday afternoon my OSU Cowboys came from behind to beat Texas. That was a huge game for them. Sadly, the Yankees lost and are currently down 0-3 to the Astros. I’m rooting for the Yanks because Harrison Bader and Matt Carpenter, former Cardinals currently play for them and I don’t really care about the other teams. We’re hoping the playoffs go all seven games for both NLCS and ALCS gameas and then seven in the world series. I always get depressed when there is no baseball. EDIT: World Serious is now set–Houston Astros and Philadelphia Phillies. Friday night! And OSU (the REAL OSU) moved up from #11 to #9 in the polls. Yay!

I did some new words but not on any of the current WIPs. Still in a mood for Cajun, I added words to the Cajun Wolves series. Not much done on UTAM though. Physical stuff. Shoulder and back. Sucks to get old.

Speaking of nothing at all, I am soooo tired of political advertising. I have a theory, being a PoliSci/Government major. The more negative one side gets, the more scared they are of losing. Just sayin’… Oh, and I’m also sick of the “polling” phone calls which rank right up there with the “car warranty” cazlls. This is why we still have a landline with an answering machine. Sadly, the machine’s robo voice irritates Jake and makes him bark.

In reading/listening news, I’ve fallen into a Archangel/Guild Hunter series marathon. I’m a bit amazed that the last time I did one was back in 2019. I tend to marathon a series when a new book releases but evidently didn’t do that the past couple of times. Ah well. New book drops tomorrow and I’m currently on book 5 of…a bunch. Fifteen? Sixteen? I’m not sure off the top of my head. And yes, I HAVE read/listened to these books at least 7 or 8 times now but the worldbuilding and the character development still boggles my mind. Nalini is an amazing author.

So…*scrolls  back to the top and scans*…I’ve talked about food, caffeine deprivation, thew weather, sports, books, and writing. That pretty much covers my world. How’s life in your world?

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Friday Sinema: The Mount Ain’t Worried

I think stuff like is is beyond cool. The media teacher at Mount St. Mary High School has her students put together this massive project every year. They are responsible for every step of it, with the rest of the school volenteering to participate. I know about this because Baseball Boy is an AP history teacher and baseball coach at The Mount. I love when kids aren’t afraid to show their creative side in a positive way. Hope this puts a smile on your face to start your weekend. Have a good one. TGIF!

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Thursday Thoughts: Universal Sense

Here we go. Thursday. Which means thoughts. I should have some. And I do. Some. Thoughts, that is. And sometines the thread of a story. Or a hint of a character. And maybe a whole scene that fits…somewhere. Quite often, when inspiration strikes, I’m lefft rather clueless. A character doesn’t make sense. A plot twist seems to lead nowhere and makes no sense. Seeing, hearing, smelling, touching. That makes sense. We–all of us and not just writers–depend on those sense to make…well…sense of the world around us. The big U appears to agree.

Lots of things don’t make sense at first, Silver, when only the physical senses are used.

What does your heart say?

Boom,
The Universe
©www.tut.com

Most things, Silver.

And here we are. What makes writers–and creative people no matter their passion or talent–different is our ability to reach outside of what’s in front of us and see, feel, taste, and smell the things taking shape in our imagination. I find this to be especially true when writing my Wolves, though it holds for all my characters. The Wolves have exttra sensory abilities. And I don’t mean ESP. I mean they hear, see, smell, and taste far beyond human capabilities. They find the essense of their mates’ scents. At let me tell you, coming up with interesting combinations can be…well…interesting. 😉 They also have the ability to sense emotions–which each has its own smell. That was another adventure, finding smells to go with th emotion. And that’s where the heart comes in. And why sometimes, we need to listen to our hearts when we get down to the nitty gritty. If you touch all the senses but forget the heart,, your story will suffer.

And if any of this makes sense, I’ll be surprised. Even though words are my things, sometimes what I want to say doesn’t come out quite coherently. That’s what editing, revisions, and proofreading is for. Readers, do you prefer it when an author goes into detail using the five senses? Does that description enhance or detract from the story? And writers, do you do this automatically or is it something you have to think about including?

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Wednesday Words: Show and Tell

This week’s prompts from #1lineWed and #ThursdayThreads sent me to the back burner where I pulled out my files on the Cajun Wolves. Beau and Luc are deputies in Jefferson Parish, Louisiana, which encompases part of New Orleans and towns sowth of the river. Beau is the easy-going one with the boyrish charm and an annoying penchant for guady NOLA-style Hawaiian shirts. You know, like gators or Tabasco Sauce bottles instead of flowers. Anyway, his heroine is, as yet, unnamed. I do know that she’s the principal/headmistress of a high school for gifted students. She’s buttoned-up, practical, and no-nonsense, ie. the perfect foil for Beau. Anyway, our prompts this week are: **AS IT: Happens. Came to be. Were. and “I would tell you if I could.” The original snippet was 249 words (and I “won,” as picked by the guest judge!) and starts with “I’ve never understood why people enjoy getting scared silly.” Everything before that and some in the middle were added during edits for a total of 468 still-first-draft words. Hope you enjoy.
****
“The school is not haunted.”

Beau watched lights in an upstairs hallway flicker on and off. “If you say so, cher.”

“I say so. The building is old, even for New Orleans. That means the wiring is too. I’ve been petitioning the board to allocate the money for upgrades.”

A lower floor window illuminated for a moment. The light looked like a candle or small lantern passing across the space. “That didn’t look electrical to me.”

She snorted. “Please don’t tell me you are the superstitious type.”

“Okay.” Since she demanded he not admit it, he decided to keep it to himself.

“I’ve never understood why people enjoy getting scared silly.”

Beau looked at her as if she’d sprouted a second head. His gaze was so intense she fought the urge to reach up to check.

“Ah, cher. What’cha don’t know can hurt chu.”

“I don’t believe so. Knowledge is power. It’s things we don’t know that can frighten us. That sound outside your window? If you don’t get up and look and confirm it’s just a tree brushing the side of her house, you’ll lay there in bed and conjure up all sorts of ridiculous scenarios.” She turned her head to look up at him. “Seriously, think about it. Monsters aren’t real.” At his narrow-eyed expression she hastened to explain. “Horror novel and movie monsters don’t exist. Human monsters? Well, yes. It seems like there’s one on every corner. My point is, why do people think it’s fun to get scared by stuff like haunted houses.”

“We live in N’Awlins, cher. How can y’not believe?” He was skeptical that she didn’t—at least just a little. At the same time, her mention of lying in bed distracted him by sending all the blood in his brain rushing south.

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes because that was something only teen girls like her students did and she was long past that stage in her life, she said, “Believe in ghosts and things that go bump in the night? Of course I don’t. They aren’t real.” She emphasized each word in her last statement.

He studied her a long moment. “So you truly don’t believe in monsters?”

“Not the kind you mean. All figments of the imagination.”

“I wish that was true. As it happens, things that go bump in the night often have teeth and claws.” He would know, being one of the fanged and furry.

She sputtered out a laugh. “Like rougarou? No such thing. Men don’t turn into wolves.” She realized he was serious. “Wait. You don’t really believe in that stuff. Do you?”

He turned and walked toward the school’s front entrance. “I would tell you if I could,” he muttered. “But you aren’t ready.”

Sadly, he wasn’t sure she would ever be. What the hell was a moonstruck Wolf to do?
****
This one’s for you, Dawn. 😉 Writers, feel free to jump in if you feel inspired. New words are new words, right? Readers and writers, do you like to be scared? It’s the spooky time of year. Any plans to visit a haunted house–real or fake?

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If It’s Tuesday…

I did not want to brain yesterday. Nor was I particularly fond of having to adult. Therefore, I dealt with a headache, no creativity, and next to no iniative. I did manage to polish a few pages before giving up. Some days there’s just not enough caffeine in the world. Therefore, as I usually set up a post the day before, this one is basically nonexistence. Therefore, I leave you with a meme. You’re welcome.

And yeah, yeah. I know. With all those therefores this sounds like a proclamation. So I’m making it one. I’m takin’ the day off. Just sayin’… What would you proclaim today?

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A Third of Mondays

Have I mentioned that this October has FIVE Mondays?!?! Monday people are celebrating. The rest of us are just getting by. Lots of coffee, my friends. Lots of coffee. The days are getting shorter. It stays dark until almost 8 o’clock these mornings. All too soon, we’ll be facing the dreaded DST time change. At least it also means cooler temps. I’m a moderate when it comes to weather. 50-60s at night, no warmer tan mid-70s during the day. That’s my comfort zone. Oh, with the occasional nurishing amount of rain.

Speaking of, we did–finally!–get some rain Sunday night. Thunderstorm blew in hard and fast, lasted about an hour, dumped some rain and moved on. Not near enough but I’ll take it! Anything is better than nothing.

Sports is a depressing topic. Stormy had a bye soccer week. My Cowboys lost in like quadruple OT, my Cards were knocked out of the play-offs early and I don’t really have a dog in this show but…baseball and hey, that Mariners/Astros game going 18 innings was crazy Saturday night. My heart goes out to the catchers! That’s worse than catching a double-header because you usually get at least a little break between games.

I was going to make those easy cinnamon rolls again but the store has been out of the Grands Cinnamon Rolls. I bought a double pack of the regular ones and may give that a try. Now that cooler weather is here, I’m all about the comfort food–meaning ooey-gooey warm and yummy.

In reading news, I finished up my marathon of Jayne Castle’s Ghost Hunter/Harmony/Rain Shadow series. The newest release, SWEETWATER & THE WITCH, is a fun addition. I picked up another book through Hoopla and while it’s quirky and different, I haven’t quite sunk my teeth into it. Probably a good thing since I should be proofing my own book, huh.

In writing news, my snippet was picked as the winner of last week’s #ThursdayThreads flash fiction challenge. The expanded version will be up Wednesday for inquiring minds. New words are new words. I truly do need to get UNDER THE ASSASSIN’S MOON finished and published so I can get back to CROSSFIRE, MOONSTRUCK MAFIA: BOSTON, and my Cajun Wolves. I’ll get on that once I’m back from Wallyworld.

No stalling that trip this week. With the change in weather, I need to stock up on some things like sour cream, pasta, and other fall-type staples. On that note, I suppose I should close so I can hit the road, Jack. With Jake. Of course. Hope y’all had a good weekend and that this week will be good to you. Later, gators.

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Friday Sinema: Boot Camp

Okay, I realise this is an Instagram video but it’s short, funny, and stars two of my favorite celebrities–Peyton Manning and Luke Bryan. I’m NOT a fan of award shows for lots of reasons but I’d be tempted to watch because of these two. Anyway, a little silliness to start your Friday. Have a great weekend! Psst: If there’s no sound, click the muted speaker button at the bottom of the video.

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