This was written for dVerse, secret ingredient.
Christmas in the kitchen
flour integral décor
wide eyed children
“helping” to pour
a touch of this Continue reading
November 13, 2018
Blurb: Lucille Howard is getting on in years, but she stays busy. Thanks to the inspiration of her dearly departed friend Arthur Truluv, she has begun to teach baking classes, sharing the secrets to her delicious classic Southern yellow cake, the perfect pinwheel cookies, and other sweet essentials. Her classes have become so popular that she’s hired Iris, a new resident of Mason, Missouri, as an assistant. Iris doesn’t know how to bake but she needs to keep her mind off a big decision she sorely regrets.
Observation: I am in such a different mindset than when I first started writing this novel. To be honest, I started out a bit afraid, but now I’m not. I don’t know if anyone is actually reading the posts, but I am seriously having fun. This is what writing should be because I think if you, as a writer, have fun, then your reader probably will too.
I thank you all so much for your encouragement. I’m only a week in and forty thousand words still to come. It’s an immense task, but it’s made much easier when you all have my back. Thank you! 🙂 If I get stuck, please throw out suggestions. Of. Any. Kind. 😉
Seriously, I have an idea of where this novel is going, but I may need some unique scenes, etc. coming up.
Disclaimer: It’s late. I’ve probably not read this over well so it might be worse than THE DRAFT that is. Many thanks.
And, if you are actually reading this novel, my thanks go out to you. You are very appreciated!
Total word count: 10277
275 words over
You can read previous sections here.
October 2, 2018
Blurb: In a most improbable friendship, she found love. In a world where women were silenced, she found her voice.
From New York Times bestselling author Patti Callahan comes an exquisite novel of Joy Davidman, the woman C. S. Lewis called “my whole world.” When poet and writer Joy Davidman began writing letters to C. S. Lewis—known as Jack—she was looking for spiritual answers, not love. Love, after all, wasn’t holding together her Continue reading
lost in the past, some halcyon, sepia-tinged fantasy days, cherub cheeked, chuckling, she felt lovable
now her life’s vintage, alone every move, love’s fleeting, mind dance of memories
his love cavorts away
Up until twenty to thirty minutes ago, this wasn’t happening. I haven’t made any secret about the fact that I just haven’t felt in tune with my writing, but maybe the Bahama Mama over dinner helped. 😉 Continue reading
So, yup, I lied to you. This story was not finished on Sunday. I had a momentary crisis about writing about an imminent hurricane while one was actively destroying people’s lives. The destruction from Florence is unimaginable to me when I have been in those place, driven down those roads. And, yet, I know that these cyclones and hurricanes have been angry for several years now. Flooding to my friends’ families in the Philippines, Kerala, Hawaii, and elsewhere. My thoughts are with everyone who has suffered through so much.
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I feel heavy and disoriented after my afternoon nap. Waking in the strange dormitory room of number 16 probably doesn’t help either. The only thing that does is Rufus resting his head on my arm the instant he knows I’m awake. He wags his tale, and I imagine he’s mentally yelling: Dinner! DinNER! DINNER! FOOD! Continue reading
I fell asleep– Continue reading