2. Thank the person that tagged you and link to their post. (who tagged me??? IDK! but i do know i saw Marie did this tag and that’s probably where i tagged myself)
3. TAG AS MANY SWIFTIES AS YOU WANT! (Or non-Swifties, maybe inspire them to listen to our Queen)
1. I FORGOT THAT YOU EXISTED: A BOOK THAT YOU WANT TO FORGET YOU EVER READ
The minute the 50th Anniversary Special was announced, I marked my calendar for November.
I was pleasantly surprised to find the full special posted on the PBS website for a whole week, from November 17th through the 24th. I watched it twice! And I experienced so many emotions!
I really enjoyed the story. Joseph Gordon-Levitt was a great host! And so many former cast members were a part of it. The songs were my favorite part, especially the performance of “Sing” at the end.
I’m planning to get it on DVD when it is released.
1. How many times have you participated in NaNoWriMo? How many times have you won?
This will be my ninth NaNoWriMo. I have participated in five NaNoWriMo sessions in November (2012, 2013, 2014, 2018, and 2019). I have also participated in four Camp NaNoWriMo sessions (Twice in 2018 and twice in 2019).
2. Are you a pantser or a plotter?
Historically, I have been a pantser. This year, I started plotting the beginning of the novel.
3. What are the titles of the projects that you have attempted/completed for past NaNos?
2012: Experiences From Camp
2013: Specialton
2014: Discussion of Differences
Camp NaNoWriMo, April 2018: Continued draft of Experiences From Camp
Camp NaNoWriMo, July 2018: Continued draft of Experiences From Camp
2018: Tunnel Vision
Camp NaNoWriMo, April 2019: Continued draft of Specialton
Camp NaNoWriMo, July 2019: Continued draft of Discussion of Differences
2019: The Transformation House
4. What are you working on for NaNo this year?
I am writing a new novel about a woman, Angela Diaz, who decides to purchase a mansion, fix it up, and create a home for transgender people in the Midwest.
5. What is one tip that you’d give to someone else that is participating in NaNo?
I agree with what All Things Momma said: “Do not have any zero days. Even if you write only one sentence that day, that is so much better than having a big fat zero on your NaNo chart. Any progress forward is better than none.”
6. What was the inspiration for this novel? Do you remember when the inspiration hit you?
I listen to the StoryCorps podcast. In honor of the 50th Anniversary of the Stonewall uprising, they created a podcast series, and an initiative called “Stonewall Out Loud.” One of the episodes discussed a home for transgender people in Little Rock, Arkansas (“We’re Still Here”). I wanted to write a story that encompasses a modern version of this effort.
7. Read us the first sentence from your NaNo novel last year?
“No, no, no! Damn it!” Nicole smacked her hands against the steering wheel.
8. What do you plan to do with your manuscript after NaNo?
Like all my other novels, I will let this draft rest for a while. I might pick it up again during Camp NaNoWriMo, April 2020. It depends on how much progress I make this month.
9. Are you prepared for NaNo? Are you nervous?
I always get a little nervous. But, I’m ready to dive in.
Will you be participating in NaNoWriMo this November?
I think I’m going to do this every fall. I’ve really enjoyed it!
As the wonderful season of autumn / fall has started, I wanted to create an original writing prompt series to celebrate!
I invite everyone who sees this to participate, if you choose.
The idea is to look at the prompt, take at least five minutes on the Fridays during October 2019, and come up with a story/poem/scene, or whatever strikes your fancy with those words.
This has been extended from September! You can use the image at the top of this post – Just please make sure to credit it.
Ready?
Here we go!
October 4th: Corn Maze
October 11th: Hay Ride
October 18th: Football
October 25th: Halloween
The bonfire made shadows across everyone’s faces. Allison shivered. Then, David stretched, and put his arm around her. She felt warmer.
They couldn’t remember whose idea it had been, but having a bonfire on Halloween was becoming a tradition. Everyone had outgrown trick-or-treating age-wise. Lucy was the only one, for now, stuck taking her younger siblings around the neighborhood. She’d promised Allison a text once her sisters and brother were back home, inevitably fighting over the candy.
Allison sighed as she felt David’s lips graze her forehead. She jumped slightly when she heard the neighborhood owl hoot into the night. Past Halloween nights varied in temperature, but this year, it was crisp, cold, and a bit spooky.
Allison jumped again when her phone buzzed.
Hey, Ally, I’m running late. My sister tore her princess dress and had the meltdown of meltdowns. Who else is there?
Allison smiled. David shifted slightly to let her text back.
No worries here. It’s just David and me so far. But, I think Scott and Jeremy will be here soon. You know Scott likes you.
Lucy rolled her eyes, and chuckled, amidst the chaos of her five siblings running around the house. She couldn’t leave just yet – No other adults were home yet. She perched on the couch, hoping her parents or older sister would hurry up and relieve her.
Scott’s cute, sure, but I like Jeremy better. I’m glad he’ll be there. Anyone else?
Allison was distracted. David had lifted her chin and they’d been making out since Lucy’s first text. His hands were everywhere. For once, Allison didn’t resist.
“I like this, David,” she breathed.
“So do I. Although, I think you’re getting a little warm. How about taking off your sweatshirt? Do you need help?”
Allison giggled. “Sure, I could use some help.”
The minute David started lifting her high school orchestra sweatshirt up, he gasped.
“David? What’s wrong?”
“AAAAAHHHHH!”
“David?!”
Cackling, Joker-like laughter followed.
“Damn it, Scott, you scared the bejesus out of me!”
Allison pulled down her sweatshirt, hoping no one else had seen her lacy bra.
Scott was lifting a Michael Myers mask, still laughing.
“Hoo boy, I got you good!”
Jeremy was behind him, carrying a six-pack. David was a bit confused – None of them were 21. But, David also knew better than to ask a lot of questions.
“Damn, Scott. I screamed like a girl.”
Allison socked him in the arm. “Hey! Don’t say that.”
Scott laughed again. “He’s not wrong, Ally.”
She rolled her eyes. “Still, it’s not a nice thing to say. especially in the presence of women.”
Scott chortled. “Whatever, Miss Feminist.”
Allison knew Scott was trying to rattle her cage. But, she didn’t like it. He’d been teasing her since first grade.
David sat up, and Allison straightened.
Allison opened her mouth, about to tell them about Lucy and her texts.
In the direction of Lucy’s house, there was another scream.
After the scream, they only heard the crackle and pop of the raging bonfire.
As the wonderful season of autumn / fall has started, I wanted to create an original writing prompt series to celebrate!
I invite everyone who sees this to participate, if you choose.
The idea is to look at the prompt, take at least five minutes on the Fridays during October 2019, and come up with a story/poem/scene, or whatever strikes your fancy with those words.
This has been extended from September! You can use the image at the top of this post – Just please make sure to credit it.
Ready?
Here we go!
October 4th: Corn Maze
October 11th: Hay Ride
October 18th: Football
October 25th: Halloween
Matt called Andrea, all excited.
“Guess what? I scored season tickets!”
“What?! No way! Congratulations!”
“It only took 15 years, but I have them in my hot little hand. We’re going to Lambeau!”
Andrea was already looking up flights before the first sentence tumbled out of Matt’s mouth. He’d been a die-hard Green Bay Packers fan since childhood. Scoring season tickets was a dream come true. He’d been to Lambeau Field before – Roughly one home game every 3-4 years, and an away game near his hometown of Charlotte, North Carolina every single year, without fail. His dad wasn’t a Green Bay fan, but he indulged his son.
Matt sighed on the phone, reminiscing.
“I just … I just wish Dad was here to see this. I know he wanted to be here for this.”
Andrea cradled the phone, pausing her frantic typing. Matt’s dad, in the throes of depression, died by suicide when Matt was 23. Scott had turned 50 the week before.
In a way, Matt was grateful he’d been at school when Dad died. But, he was still sad he’d died alone.
Mom had left, abandoning her 25-year marriage. The alcoholism, not the depression, had broken her spirit.
As Andrea listened, Matt recounted the good days, but clearly remembered the multiple beers at all the football games. It wasn’t necessarily unusual – Beer and football went hand-in-hand. But, Scott always pushed the limit.
When Matt was 15, just shy of getting his learner’s permit, he took the keys away for the first time. In the beginnings of a blizzard, Matt carefully drove the rental car from Lambeau to their hotel. Scott loudly protested, but Matt handled it with grace. Scott passed out in the Honda not 10 minutes later. The snow was getting heavier as he carefully navigated to the Holiday Inn after the Packers’ hard-fought loss to the Chiefs.
After calling security to get him out of the Honda, Scott woke up long enough to barf in the parking lot, all over the fresh snow. Matt winced. After Scott was cleaned up and snoring away, likely dreaming of his next drink, that was the first time Matt cried.
He remembered calling Mom, and her reaction was strangely calm.
“I’m sorry you had to deal with that, sweetheart. Especially alone. Are you okay?”
Matt swallowed. “I … Is it … Is it bad that I want to leave him here?”
Mom sighed. “Oh, honey, I’m sorry. It’s not bad. I’ve had that thought many times, unfortunately. I can send you money if you need it. But, with the blizzard …”
Matt leaned against the bank of pay phones. “I’m stuck, for now. I wish we’d picked a different game. I have school.”
Mom smiled. Her son, so studious and empathetic.
“I just want you … both of you … to be safe. Call me when he wakes up, okay?”
Matt sighed. “I wish you were here.”
“With you, yes. I’m so tired of it, all of it. But this is something my son, at 15, shouldn’t have to worry about.”
“But I am worried, Mom. He’s passed out in the double bed. I’m afraid he’s going to get sick again.”
“Go, check on him. I’ll keep watching the weather. Call me in a couple hours, okay? Don’t worry about waking me up. I don’t think I’ll be sleeping tonight.”
Their dog barked in the background, followed by sibling squabbling.
“I gotta go take care of your brother and sister. Please, call me later, okay? I love you, Matt. Thank you for being there.”
Matt sighed, crying again. “I love you, too, Mom. I’ll call around 10.”
Matt hung up, wanting to sprint out the lobby doors instead of going back up to the fourth floor. For the first time, he was truly afraid what he was going to find in Room 452.
“Matt? Matt? Are you still there?”
Andrea brought Matt back to reality. He wiped his cheeks.
“Yeah, sorry about that. Memories.”
“I know you miss your Dad. We all do.”
“Thanks, Andrea. It’s weird. Most of the time – 98 percent of the time – I’m happy. But, that other two percent comes in like a flood and takes over my brain.”
Andrea shifted the phone. “That’s why you’ve been in some sort of counseling or therapy since 2017. Don’t beat yourself up too badly, Matt. You’re a human being. You’re grieving the man you called your hero.”
Matt scoffed. “Some hero. He drank himself to death.”
“No, he didn’t. He was in a hole he couldn’t get out of. Depression is weird like that.”
Andrea struggled with the words. It was still painful, nearly 2 1/2 years later.
Matt sighed. “Hence why I haven’t touched alcohol. That made me really popular in college, by the way.”
Andrea chuckled. Matt was always able to use humor to shift conversations. It was one of many things she liked about him. As he talked, she felt that familiar longing. She’d wanted to be with him for years, but had suppressed her feelings. They’d been friends since sophomore year of college, about six months before Scott had descended into what would have been his last spiral.
Matt smiled. He was grateful for Andrea’s friendship. She’d been by his side in the good times, and especially the bad times. Many others, including his entire fraternity, had all but abandoned him.
Not Andrea. She’d stuck by him, even pushing him to finish his degree on time. She knew that was the one big thing Scott wanted. She was proud to have helped him so much.
Now she wanted to help him again. This was the first major good news in a long, long time.
When Al was on a recent business trip, I made a list of movies I wanted to watch after getting home from work. Having little success in locating many of them through Netflix, Amazon, and Hulu, I found Won’t You Be My Neighbor? through Amazon Prime Video.
I’d heard this documentary made you cry, and it’s definitely true. I learned a lot about Mr. Rogers, both the man and the genesis of the television show.
I was a bit worried about the length – A little more than 90 minutes. I wasn’t sure if the “whole story” would be captured in that time frame. Neville, however, proved me wrong.
The interviews were amazing. Neville captured everyone he possibly could – Joanne Rogers, John Rogers, Jim Rogers, Elaine Rogers, Yo-Yo Ma, Francois Clemmons. And Fred Rogers and Koko the gorilla in archival recordings.
The show originally debuted in Canada in 1962. It began in the U.S. in 1966 on the regional Eastern Education Network. Its national debut was on February 19, 1968.
One of the interesting things about the documentary was seeing the origin story. I knew the show covered topics that most children’s programming avoided, but it was fascinating to see archival footage from 1967 and 1968, discussing the Vietnam War and Robert Kennedy’s assassination, among other things.
I started watching Mister Rogers before I could talk. New episodes aired on PBS until 2001, so I remember the “modern era” of the show. I learned about things from how Crayola crayons are made, factories, jobs, books, conflict, death, friendship, family, and more.
This documentary is filled with nostalgia, and one of the best things I’ve seen in 2019. I’m very happy Morgan Neville decided to do this – I hope it was as rewarding for him as it was for me.
Watching this now is the perfect lead-up to the upcoming film, A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood, starring Tom Hanks. I can hardly wait for Thanksgiving week. You’ll find me first in line for tickets.
Will wanted make their 10th dating anniversary special. Their first date that September Saturday, 10 years before, changed both their lives forever.
Bethany had diagnosed anxiety, but her anxiety preparing for their 10th dating anniversary was especially high. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it. She wanted to impress Will, knock him out of the park, in some way.
Separately, they had shopped for new outfits. But, they were going to a familiar place. Back to where it all began.
In the driveway that wound around the side of their beautiful house, Will polished his red sports car to perfection. It made Bethany get those butterflies again. She thought about how her brother-in-law’s former girlfriend had pointed out the car was Will’s, all those years ago.
Red was a theme for them, quite by accident. Will’s sports car was red. The top that Bethany wore on their first date was red. It was far too small now, but Bethany never wanted to part with it. She wanted so badly to wear it for the momentous occasion, but she certainly wasn’t 120 pounds anymore.
And red was part of their colors for their beautiful fall wedding. Their 10th dating anniversary in September would be followed by their fifth wedding anniversary in November. They were finally taking a proper week off from work. It was going to be their first significant getaway since their first wedding anniversary. Sad, but true.
Bethany steadied herself as she emerged from the shower, still in the hazy fog of wonderful memories. The red dress she’d found through her favorite consignment group on Facebook had been hidden away for months. She couldn’t wait to surprise Will.
She heard the sports car start up, knowing Will would be inside in just a few minutes.
The door slammed shut, causing the dogs to bark. Will was so good with them. They were quiet again in a minute or two. Bethany didn’t have to say a word.
As Bethany toweled off her hair, she heard Will climb the stairs. She caught her breath.
He let out his customary wolf whistle as he saw the dress hanging on her closet door.
“Wow, Bethany.”
She smiled, opening the bathroom door a crack. Steam, perfume, and deodorant wafted through the air.
“You smell amazing, sweetheart.”
“Thank you, baby.”
“Wanna give me a sneak peek?”
She smiled, unable to resist.
Fooling around was going to make them late for dinner, but neither of them really cared. Bethany loved how Will took his time with her, and enjoyed every inch of her.
When they finished, Bethany flicked her towel at him as he headed toward the shower. She put on the dress, and realized her anxiety was gone.
The sports car shone in the September sunshine as Will drove toward the beach. Bethany felt the butterflies give way to nostalgia and excitement. They were going back to the restaurant where it all began.
Dinner felt like old times, but it was full of reminiscing and making new memories. The food was just as good as it had been 10 years ago.
The symphony was warming up for their concert series as Bethany and Will strolled the boardwalk. The only difference was the musical act, and maybe 10 years of age.
Bethany and Will laughed as they stopped around the same place where Will had kissed her for the first time. Memories flooded both them.
This time, Bethany spoke up first.
“I have something to tell you.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m pregnant.”
Bethany smiled and her eyes filled with tears as she watched Will’s face.
“Really?”
“Yes, really. I took a test this morning. I didn’t think it was true, but it is.”
Will wanted to pick her up and spin her around, but he just kissed her.
The stars and fireworks Bethany had felt 10 years earlier, on that boardwalk on a September Saturday, were still there. And now, they were starting another chapter.
As the wonderful season of autumn / fall approaches us, I wanted to create an original writing prompt series to celebrate!
I invite everyone who sees this to participate, if you choose.
The idea is to look at the prompt, take at least five minutes on three Fridays in September 2019, and come up with a story/poem/scene, or whatever strikes your fancy with those words.
I may extend this further than the end of September, but we shall see. Until then, have fun! You can use the image at the top of this post – Just please make sure to credit it.
Ready?
Here we go!
September 13th: Apple Picking
September 20th: Fall Leaves
September 27th: Pumpkin Patch
“What makes you think that going apple picking was a good idea?!”
Cheryl winced at Sam’s words. She tried to listen to him, while holding back hot tears.
“I thought this was going to be a weekend away, Cheryl – A weekend just for us. But, having the kids come along with us? That’s not a weekend away in my book!”
Two-year-old Abby stopped examining her apple, and looked up at her mom. Her face said it all.
Cheryl swayed back and forth, trying to see if baby Ezra was still asleep in the carrier on her chest. At ten pounds, her shoulders ached. He was a beautiful baby, her answer to prayer for a boy, but heavy.
Sam continued. “I can’t believe we drove all this way for this. I would rather be anywhere else than here.”
Cheryl sighed. She loved Sam, but he lost his filter when he got frustrated. This, this was borderline anger though. And it wasn’t the first time.
Abby had moved on to another apple, but didn’t speak. Or dance. Or sing. Cheryl let one tear slip, hoping it didn’t smear the makeup she’d worked so hard to apply that morning.
As Sam started to berate her, growing louder among the beautiful apple orchard, Cheryl adjusted Ezra’s weight. He sighed slightly, and Cheryl knew he wanted to nurse.
“Cheryl? Are you listening to me?”
As she got Ezra settled, she looked at her husband. She nodded, and turned her attention back to Ezra.
“There’s a good boy, my sweet boy.”
“You’re not paying attention to a word I’m saying. Fine. I won’t say anything at all.”
Sam crossed his arms. Cheryl patted Ezra’s back, and kept an eye on Abby. She hated the silent treatment. But only a few words came out of her mouth, with the perfect red lipstick.
“I’m sorry, Sam. I’m sorry. I ruined this. All of this.”
Abby finally spoke up, with her sweet voice breaking the painful silence.
“Mommy, can we pick more apples?”
Cheryl felt another tear escape, but smiled at her firstborn.
“Of course, sweetheart. Let’s go this way.”
Abby smiled, and started singing to herself as Cheryl took her sticky hand. Ezra finished nursing, and burped. Cheryl smiled a little as she walked away from Sam, leaving his plaid shirt and quilted vest behind. She wasn’t sure what was in store after this, but she didn’t care one bit. Her children, sweet and innocent, gave her courage.
Come back next Friday for another prompt post!
If you do decide to participate, please link back to this post. Thanks!
The tag is called The Logophile Book Tag. A logophile is “a lover of words.” Since I’m truly fascinated with the concept of language and words, this seemed fairly appropriate. All the questions below are based off of remarkable yet seldomly used expressions or terms.
The Rules
Thank the person who tagged you (you can skip me ha-ha)
Pingback Bookmark Your Thoughts’ original post so I can see your lovely answers!
Pingback the person who tagged you so they can see the post.
Bonus: If you wish to, tag at least three people to do this tag.
At 218 pages, this is a book I think everyone should read. I know some people don’t like it. I was assigned to read it in 12th grade, and I fell in love with it. I re-read it every year.
—
Serenity | The state of being calm, peaceful, and untroubled
As an author, Nicholas Sparks makes me feel warm and fuzzy. I read almost all his books between middle school and college. I did my college senior thesis on his books and the perceptions of love and romance with female readers. This book, in particular, reminds me of middle school, high schools, and times gone by.
![The Sherlock Holmes Collection by [Doyle, Arthur Conan, Classics, ReadOn]](https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/41SB5DEe5hL._SY346_.jpg)
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