Tag Archives: short stories

Arg!! Oh what a terrible morning

Greetings, readers. What a morning Rebecca and I are having. If it was not dealing with a serious matter to me, I could have seen Tim Conway doing this in a comedy sketch. It would have been hilarious. Here’s what happened.

I had one simple phone call to make. All I had to do is tell a human being on the other end of the line that I wanted to verify a piece of medical information for my insurance. In 45 minutes, readers, and after calls to three different phone numbers, do you think we actually got a human being? No. I don’t count the person who told me that I did not call the right number. I can see Tim Conway on a speaker phone – push 1 for English, 2 for Portuguese, 3 for Spanish, etc. Fifteen different languages all the way to Scandinavian. Meanwhile, Harvey Korman would be laughing at the faces Tim Conway would make in exasperation. Yes, folks, on TV it is funny. In real life, not so much. Rebecca suggested that we take a break and write the blog entry while my phone charges a bit. I think it was an excellent idea. I feel better already.

I already have in mind the idea for the next short story blog entry. As one of my readers requested, it is going to be a continuation of Toby’s adventures in the attic. I’m going to let my creative juices flow and push the envelope, as people say.

As I may or may not have mentioned in a previous post, my speech recognition program, for lack of another term, got set back to factory specs and I am in the process of re-teaching it my speech patterns. It should not take too long. The more I use it the more it will work. I have two appointments this afternoon, but I am going to write this evening and much of tomorrow. By then I should have the speech recognition program back to the way it was. It had actually learned my voice quite well, I was most pleased, but then it re-set. Sometimes, though, I still want to be that Tom Hanks character on Cast Away, who was all by himself; on an island or in a cabin in the mountains, and just write, write, write. However, this is something called the real world and I do have a plethora of appointments to go to.

Okay, I have sufficiently ranted and raved, and I feel better. When Rebecca and I wrap up this blog entry we will try again to contact the agency I need to talk to.

I bid you all a great weekend and that short story will be ready for Rebecca to cut and paste into the blog on Wednesday. Until then, take care, have a great day, and happy reading.

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The Secret House, a short story

Greetings, readers. As promised, here is the short story for today’s blog entry. I hope you enjoy it. Let me know what you think in the comments section or on Facebook.

It was 9:30 in the evening, time for Toby to go to bed. The eleven-year-old still had lots of energy and going to sleep was the last thing on his mind. He wanted to explore the secret trap door he had found in the guest room closet. Toby decided to change into his more comfortable pajamas and much lighter bedroom slippers. That way Mom and Dad might not hear him sneaking around.

After changing, Toby, with flashlight in hand, quietly snuck down the hallway of the second floor. They had moved in three weeks ago and he had still not explored all the nooks and crannies. The day before, right as his mother called him for dinner, Toby discovered the hatch door in the cupboard of the guest room closet. This is where he was headed tonight.

Toby switched on the lamp which was sitting on the chest of drawers and gently closed the guest room door. He opened the closet door quietly, grasped a pull chain, and clicked on the lightbulb. He grabbed the step stool which was sitting by his right foot and gently placed it right underneath the hatch door. What surprises would he find when he opened that hatch? He might not find anything but a dusty old attic. But Toby had to know. He pushed up on the panel and moved it over to where he could hoist himself up and get his first glimpse of the surroundings. He was amazed at what he saw.

It was a lavishly decorated bedroom. Toby’s jaw dropped. He climbed up into the room and switched his flashlight off. There was a full mirror over the dresser, a huge queen-sized bed with a maroon comforter on top and many fluffy pillows. Toby very quietly called out, “Hello?” He wasn’t expecting an answer and didn’t get one. An alarm clock, lamp, and hairbrush were on one nightstand and the other nightstand just contained a small lamp which was filling the room with light. Toby wanted desperately to open up one of the dressers, but somehow thought alarms would go off so he didn’t. As he was about to head for the hatch, he noticed that there was a doorway seeming to lead to another room. He walked through.

A large living room met Toby and this room had every conceivable piece of electronic equipment you could possibly want for entertainment. There was a 60-inch big screen TV on the wall, an expensive stereo with top brand speakers, a Foosball table, and an air hockey machine. Toby whispered to himself, “I would never have to leave here.” Toby noticed another doorway.

Stepping through, he came to the kitchen and dining room area and quickly came to the realization that he had stumbled on to an entire house. Was it really all his own? Wouldn’t that be amazing. Toby searched the refrigerator and it was well stocked with good food and snacks. He panicked. Does someone really live here? Did Toby step through a door to another dimension? Did he step into the Twilight Zone? He called out hello again and got no answer.

From the kitchen he walked to a den and noticed a door that seemed to lead outside. There was a small window by the door but Toby couldn’t see out of it. All he saw was a thick white fog. Toby unlocked the door and opened it. He was almost afraid to step out. There was absolute nothingness, white fog, as far as the eye could see. Toby very quietly closed the door and made sure to re-lock it. What might be lurking on the other side scared him. Figuring he had done enough exploring for one night, he quietly walked back through the set of rooms the way he came. He lowered himself down and found the stool with his feet. He closed the hatch door, hoping his house would be there the next time he wanted to explore it. But what was outside?

Toby used the bathroom before returning to his bedroom, just in case his parents heard footsteps. As he jumped into bed, he was surprised that only a few minutes had passed since he had changed into his pajamas. Maybe I will call this the Toby Dimension, he thought to himself as he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

There is the first of a least a few short stories that the blog will showcase. I just thought I’d try my hand at it, to limber up the creative muscles. I hope you enjoy it, and as always, Rebecca and I will see you next week, so do take care, have a great weekend, and happy reading.

Oops, what a mistake I made

Greetings, readers. Between back spasms, trying to clear out a few things on the computer, and getting ready to run to the bus yesterday, I goofed. I accidentally erased the short story we had ready to go for today’s blog entry. Rebecca reminded me what the subject was, and I quickly remembered that it is one of my recurring dreams, and it won’t be that difficult to recreate. I guess that is what you would call the silver lining. The dark cloud was that story was a page and a half long, which was one of my better accomplishments of late. Grrr.

I’m quite certain I will be able to reconstruct it very soon and I promise you that it will be up at some point as a blog entry, most likely tomorrow. This is my final week at my fast food job before I am taking the summer off, when I’ll have a lot more time to write. Last Thursday’s trial run of my summer daily routine worked beautifully. I’m really looking forward to getting a lot done creatively. Something I must overcome, however, is my morning back spasms while sitting at my chair. I told Rebecca that this could turn into something psychosomatic quickly. I can’t live on pain reliever and I won’t have time to crawl back into my chair and go back to sleep every morning. I must get work done this summer.

The last few days have been beautiful and warm. I love it. It seems like yet again we went from late winter right to early summer. I remember as a child at my parents’ house that the crocuses would come up every early April. That was one of my favorite signs of Spring. Whether it is climate change or what have you, I don’t think central Pennsylvania has a spring anymore. I learned many moon ago that Mother Nature and Old Man Winter can do whatever they want whenever they want, and we have no control. I’m looking out my window to a perfect blue sky and a forecasted high of 82 F, and although I haven’t looked at the forecast, tomorrow might very well be windy and 60.

Well, here’s an update on Princess Josie. She is learning her world quite nicely. When she misbehaves, such as getting on the work table with the computer, I pick her up and say no. I give her three chances to stop and if she doesn’t then I gently put her in her crate for a time-out. After several minutes I let her out and wouldn’t you know, she doesn’t do said behavior again. She is a very smart kitten. She was very much preoccupied with a bumble bee a few minutes ago, sitting on the window sill and looking outside. She was so preoccupied with said bumble bee, she lost track of where she was and slid off the sill. Fear not readers, she landed on her feet. Now she is looking for birdies. She was running around earlier playing with an empty pill bottle. She loves to play hockey. This morning, however, I caught her looking into my pill bag, with the bottles that actually have medication in them. I made certain that the two bottles I let her play with were empty before I let her have them. Now I need to be leery about her being alone with my med bag. I have solved that problem by putting my med bag in my bedroom with the door shut, but if I let her have free roam of the entire place, I will put my med bad in a cupboard.

My JMK Gaming Channel on YouTube is hanging on by a thread. I enjoy making the videos but never seem to have enough time to do them. Hopefully that will be another thing that changes this summer. I have one ready to upload, I just have to put butt in chair and do it.

Rebecca and I will be working here tomorrow. Either I will have recreated the dream house short story with the help of the voice recognition program, or Rebecca and I will type it up and post it. So until then, take care, have a great day, we’ll see you tomorrow, and happy reading.

Sharing another story from my second book with you

Greetings, readers. I am sharing a story, “Going Down the Runway,” from my second camp book, published in 2012 from CreateSpace.com. I have written three books that I published using CreateSpace, a publish-on-demand site which I have had good experiences using. I am proud of all of them and the hard work I put into them. All three books are available through CreateSpace, or through Amazon. The first two, about Bear Spring Camps, are also available on Kindle (I haven’t put the third one on that platform yet.) In case you are interested in looking them up, here is the information to find them. You can find most of same information on the Books for Sale page.

My first book, Picking Up Where We Left Off: My Bear Spring Camps Stories, is available on my e-store, https://www.createspace.com/3625476, Amazon.com, and Amazon Kindle. I have shared two stories from this book in the blog before, about a tribute to my mother the year she passed away, and about when I fell asleep fishing.

My second book, Tales from North Bay & Beyond: More Bear Spring Camps Stories, is the one I am sharing a story from today. It is available on my e-store, https://www.createspace.com/3674407, and Amazon.com and Amazon Kindle. I shared one story from this book already, about a run-away boat.

My third book, Greetings, Readers: A Year in the Life of a New Blogger, has entries from my first year of doing this blog. It is available on my e-store, https://www.createspace.com/3678800, and Amazon.com.

Without further ado, here is the story. I certainly hope you enjoy it.

Going Down the Runway – The worst mishap the Galileo ever
endured was due to lack of planning. It was a hot breezy afternoon.
David, Pop, and I decided to cool ourselves down with a long boat
ride. Mom decided to stay behind on the porch with a cool drink. We
were going to go to the other side of Great Pond where any breeze
might be stronger. It was an area that none of us went to very often.
After we got back, I wished that I had, the night before, asked Mr.
Mosher for a lake map that I could study before we left. But I didn’t.

The ride started out in North Bay as usual. We then started
making our way through Chutes Channel to the other side. We were
enjoying our ride with the Galileo’s throttle open to full. She was
getting a good workout. On this rare occasion, I was not at the helm.
Dave had taken a turn driving and then Pop took his turn; a rarity for
Dad. I should have been paying attention to his driving so that I
could assist him as needed, but I didn’t think of it.

It was during Pop’s turn at the wheel when the minor tragedy
occurred. We were on our way back to North Bay (where we knew
what the markers meant) but we were unsure of the markers on the
other side. He had to navigate the Galileo in an area where rocks
were abundant. On one side was a row of green markers and on the
other side, approximately ten yards away on the left, was a row of
red markers. Pop must have thought that in between the rows of
markers was the danger zone. As it turns out, it was the safe passage.
Just like landing an aircraft, we should have aimed right down the
middle of the runway. Pop veered to the right toward the rocks.

By this point in the ride, I was sitting in the front passenger area
half asleep. I got a rude awakening. As the propeller smacked
against a boulder just underneath the water surface, the Galileo came
out of the water for a fraction of a second. Pop immediately brought
the boat to a halt. As he lifted the engine up with the automatic
lifting device, he asked, “Davey, do you see any damage?”

Dave, though not really wanting to be the bearer of bad news,
replied, “Um, yes, sir, there is.”

I quickly walked back to where the engine was. Luckily the boat
itself was undamaged. To this day, I don’t know how the propeller
was the only thing that hit the rock, but it happened. With the
propeller in the mangled shape it was in, we weren’t getting out of
that spot on our own. I reached into the glove box, got the air horn, and blew it to call for help. After several minutes, someone came to
our aid and carefully got us out of the rocky situation we were in.

Once back in deep water, the ride home was slow but
uneventful. The propeller was just useable enough for us to drive our
boat back to our dock at the slowest possible speed, although the
engine put out a rough quiver. I kept thinking to myself, now how
am I going to explain this to Mother? Pop assured me that he would
take full responsibility. I felt guilty, yet relieved.

That evening, Mother went up to supper early to place a call to
the marina right before it closed. A mechanic was up the next
morning to not only install the new propeller but to inspect the
engine for any other damage. To my relief, when the new propeller
was put on, everything else checked out ok. Mom told all of us that
she would greatly appreciate it if we would stay on our side of the
lake.

The next morning, Uncle Cy, David, and I planned and partook
of a fishing trip. The engine started up as usual and ran smoothly. I
purposely opened her up to full throttle to check for any vibration.
Thankfully, it was as though the entire incident never happened.

A month or so later, when the marina bill was sent to our home
in Pennsylvania, Mom showed me how much the new propeller cost.
I felt like crawling under the rock that we had hit.

My short story writing plans for tomorrow

Greetings, readers. With my creative juices flowing, I’m going to write the first draft of tomorrow’s top ten list either tonight or early tomorrow morning. This will leave Rebecca and me more time to work on my new writing exercise. I have decided to prime the pump, as Rebecca would say, and dictate to her very short stories.

The inspiration for this happened by chance. While listening to my Spotify music provider, I discovered that along with many different types of music, there is also a spoken word category. There I found everything from novels to the shortest of short stories. After listening to a couple of short stories read aloud, I dreamt what it would feel like to have one of my short stories read by these wonderful voices. So tomorrow I’m going to have three or four general topics written down on a piece of paper. For instance, the day at the beach, or a romantic interlude at a cabin. I’m just going to begin dictating from a good starting point, work the story, bring it to a climax, and have a cheerful conclusion. At least, we’ll be writing again.

Yes, I do call the blog entries writing, but I want to get my brain more engaged and have some works which at some point could be compiled in a book.

I talked to Rebecca about this briefly yesterday and I think she likes the idea. So please readers, wish us luck.

Until tomorrow, have a great day, be careful in the snow, take care and happy reading.

My Fascination with Airplanes, a story by me

Greetings, readers. We got the blog post done so fast today, that Rebecca and I still have time in the work day, so I am sharing one of my personal stories with you, from a project that has, for now, stalled. I have some little pieces that may or may not be published in a book someday, and Rebecca thought it would be nice to share them with you. So, here you go.

My Fascination with Airplanes

            From the age of seven, I have been fascinated with aircraft of all types. I have lived in central Pennsylvania all my life and our airport was considerably smaller than it is today. In the pre-9/11 era, people could stand closer to the airfield. As a kid, I could literally stand by the fence and watch planes take off; you can’t do that anymore. Today, they have security walls and guards keeping you far from any real view. When our airport was smaller, single engine propeller planes were the status quo. Today you can hear small jets overhead. Jets are my passion.

My father, a philosophy professor, would sometimes teach overseas. Once in a great while the family would get to travel with him. My first experience on a jet was on a Boeing 747. As memory serves, it was approximately a seven hour flight. Being pampered by stewards and stewardesses, as they were called back then, was a real treat for me. However, my biggest thrill was take-off. As the jumbo jet rumbled down the runway, engines whining with power, the giant bird became airborne. I saw the earth fall away and the plane seemed to smooth out.

Within thirty minutes of the flight we were at or near cruising altitude. The now all-too-familiar “dings” of the smoking/no smoking signs were switched off, and we could truly get comfortable. In the 1970s, jumbo jets were equipped with one, perhaps two, movie screens. Nowadays, there are smaller screens every few rows. Another pre-9/11 luxury of aircraft was something called real silverware, instead of the now used spork. Meals were more elaborate and tastier. I won’t go into too much detail, but I’m still looking for the moron who served us spaghetti and meat sauce at 25,000 feet. I got a little sick.

Flying from New York to Frankfort was an overnight flight, so still being a young boy, I was easily able to sleep. When I awoke, we were approximately an hour away from our destination. I remember my disappointment when my parents told me that we were going home on a ship and not a plane.

Today, I get my thrills of flying through something called the flight simulator. It is a wonderful computer program. I can program the computer to begin at any one of 24,000 airports and “fly” to virtually anywhere in the world.

Homework assignment still pending and I’m under the weather

Greetings, readers. As the title implies, there is a correlation between my homework assignment not being done and the cold that I am trying to ward off. Either I have successfully caught the cold going around State College, or I’m having one monstrous allergy attack. It did interfere with my writing, but I’m about to tell you the good news.

The short story which was my homework assignment is complete in my mind. I just have to get to feeling better to type it out. I showed Rebecca what I have so far and she thinks I’m off to a good start, which pleased me to no end. On the other hand, it was a little frustrating because I so wanted to get between three and four pages done, and just didn’t. After our blog entry is complete today, Rebecca and I are going to outline the rest of the story. I’ve had it locked in my brain for the last several days, which is unusual for me because most times I make it up as I go along.

I remember when I was writing my play Kimberly I had a vague idea of where I wanted it to go, but all the little plot twists happened on the spur of the moment. Oh yes, those were the days when I could crank out the first draft of a play in less than a year. Today I fear it would take at least twice as long.

The dream of being a writer will always be with me, but making it a career is turning out to be more of a problem that I first thought. Yes, I do get the occasional sale, but it comes far from paying the rent. At some point, I think what I might have to do is get myself a part-time job to help structure my life more, and Rebecca and I will work around our other work schedules. I don’t want that to have to be the case, I’m quite happy doing what I am doing right now, but unless we can find a way to successfully market the books better, some change might be in the offing in January or February.

The next blog entry will be a From Rebecca and then my next one will be next Wednesday. By then I hope to be fully recovered from whatever this sinus thing is. I also hope to have my homework assignment completed and even be on to the next one. Until next time, take care, enjoy your day, and happy reading.

Sharing a story from my second book

Greetings, readers. I wrote yesterday that I will be busy. While you wait for my next new blog entry, here’s something for you to feast your eyes on. From my book, Tales from North Bay & Beyond: More Bear Spring Camps Stories, I chose one of my favorite stories with my buddy and brother Dave Trost, Run-Away Boat. Enjoy.

Run-away boat 

        It was a hot early August day, and David and I decided to enjoy our daily afternoon boat ride. We usually took the Galileo, of which I was always the captain, but on this particular occasion we decided to take the small camp boat so that Dave could take the helm. He called his boat the Spidinkies. He got that name from a family member who used that word instead of cussing.

We made one complete lap around North Bay, which in the smaller boat took twice as long as in the Galileo. Dave asked me if I wanted to go around again. I said sure, why not? It was a beautiful day, we had plenty of gas, and nothing else was planned for that afternoon. Dave began the second lap.

Then it happened.

I do not know what possessed me to do this, but I, a crazy young teenager, dared the driver to jump out of the boat. David told me later that he yelled up to me not to dare him because he would do it, but I didn’t hear him. I yelled back again, making sure that my voice was heard over the engine, “Dave, I triple double dog dare you to jump out of this boat.” Figuring that sanity and his sense of well-being would override temptation, the thought never entered my mind that he would actually take me up on the dare.

I heard nothing in reply and for a few moments the Spidinkies turned as it should have to avoid markers and other boats.

We passed Snake Point and began running parallel to the lakefront, within sight of the cabins. There was a platform anchored about thirty yards from shore that people used for diving and lying in the sun. We were approximately eighty to one hundred yards away when I noticed three beautiful teenage girls, about fifteen or sixteen years old, sunbathing. Unless we turned quickly, the boat would hit the platform and the girls.

“Ok, Dave, nice, slow, easy turn.”

Nothing happened. Well maybe he just didn’t hear me.

“Ok, Dave, nice slow …”

Then horror hit me. Could it be that this slightly older, slightly wiser person took the dare? I realized I had to look back. To my shock I was in a run-away boat. Dave was treading water with one hand while waving to me with the other about fifty yards back. Blind panic set in. I jumped over two bench seats – carefully – to get to the engine.

I had two options. Option number one was to turn the boat to the left away from shore, which would have thrown me off balance and caused me to go into the drink as well. Option number two, and the one I chose, was to put the engine from forward into reverse without pausing in neutral. The engine whined with resistance and the propeller broke the waterline for an instant. I felt like the captain of the Titanic praying that he didn’t hit the iceberg. All three girls dove off into the water, swimming toward safety. Dave told me later that he had reduced the speed and thought I knew he was jumping out. He assumed I would have plenty of time to take control of the boat. To me, it felt like the boat was going full-speed and that it took forever for my thirteen year-old badly balanced body to avoid disaster. The boat stopped mere feet from the diving platform before slowly reversing.

After I had gotten the boat under my control, I looked back at Dave. His coy smile had long since gone from his face. I went back to him, the engine sputtering, not running smoothly at all. When I got to him, I shouted over the engine’s noise, “Do you think that was funny, mister?”

Now to this day I do not recall his reply verbatim; I think I was too angry. But suffice it to say that since he left me in the lurch, I would leave him. I drove away, leaving him to swim to shore. Granted it wasn’t that far of a swim. Little did I know that he would get the last laugh.

While all this was going on, I failed to notice that my mother was sitting on the porch and saw the whole thing. As I docked the boat, she came out to greet me. “Why did David jump out of that boat?” she said. And I, the naïve truth telling idiot that I was, offered up, “Because I dared him to.”

Mother couldn’t believe what she just heard. Oh, she was proud of her son for telling the truth, but not for being so irresponsible as to dare the driver of a moving object to jump out. Moments later David arrived on shore. He has a knack of sneaking up on me if he wants to. Oh, yes, he was going to have his revenge for being left behind. And my mother, God rest her saintly soul, never let on that he was standing directly behind me.

“But Mom,” I explained, “I didn’t think he would really do it.”

I kind of had a sense that my buddy and brother was behind me. I can just feel those kinds of things. I slowly turned my head around to see him grinning at me. I stood there, Mother to my front, David at my rear, trying to figure out how I was going to get out of this predicament. The way I had it figured was that I had two people upset with me. After several minutes of explanation, squirming, and perspiring, Mother looked at David and said, “So he dared you, huh?”

He shook his head in the affirmative with a big grin on his face. Right there I knew I’d had it. Dave looked up at her and said, “Mom, can I dunk him?”

She waited for an agonizing second before saying, “Sure, why not?”

I tried to flee. I took a step and a half before I felt David’s arms around my waist. “Where do you think you’re going, Kockelmans?” he joked.

I could always tell when David was not really mad at me. Yet my leaving him in the lake did require a good dunking. And at the count of three, that was exactly what I got. Into the shallow water I went with a kersplash. Luckily, I was in my bathing suit so it didn’t matter.

“Ok,” I said, “fair is fair. Dave, remind me never to dare you to jump out of the boat again.”

“Joe, never dare me to jump out of the boat.”

“I hate it when you do that.”

The next morning, unfortunately, we had to have the engine looked at by one of the cabin boys. He popped off the top to give it a good once over. To my relief, the damage was minimal. The engine was not ruined.

That ended my daring days. Any such further dares of my friend David occurred on dry land.

Take care, hope you enjoyed the story, and until soon . . .

Here is another excerpt from my first book

Greetings, readers. As I did once before, here is a second story for you all to enjoy from my first book, Picking Up Where We Left Off: My Bear Spring Camps Stories. As mentioned, Bear Spring Camps book 2 is well on the way. And since it’s going to be an easy day here at the office, I thought it might be fun to give you all another small taste of the first book. This is from a chapter I titled “A Basketful of Stories.” One of the smaller ones which wasn’t quite long enough to be its own chapter.

The above title is linked up to the book’s order page on CreateSpace.com. If you are interested, I have a sale going on until the end of May. Two dollars off the $9.99 list price. Hope you all enjoy and a new blog entry will be posted Friday or Saturday. Until then, take care and happy reading.

            Falling Asleep at the Pole – Another humorous story was about the time that I very nearly lost my fishing pole due to my unplanned late morning nap. As in the previous vignette, the weather was quite warm and without a breeze, and the fish weren’t biting, setting the right conditions for me to nod off to sleep. Dave and I were sitting at the stern of the boat in our usual spots, Dave in the left hand seat and me in the right. As time went by without action, I felt myself becoming drowsy, and decided to put my pole in a side compartment next to my seat. I nodded off. I can’t say for certain rather I was completely asleep or not but I was close enough. At a certain point, I was quickly awakened by Dave’s words, which I shall always remember. “Joseph, I highly suggest you pull back on your rod, now!”

            Grabbing my pole with my right hand, still half asleep, I pulled back and by some miracle did manage to set the hook. So here I was trying to fight a fish while fending off the sandman. Dave netted the fish, as he always did. I thanked him for the assist, for had he not spoken when he did, the fish would not only have taken my bait, but my rod and reel as well. From that moment on I vowed never to fall asleep in the boat again.

 

New personal writing project has begun

Greetings, readers. I am very happy to announce that along with Bear Spring Camps book 2, I have begun another writing project which is more deeply personal. My writing assistant and I set up the outline yesterday and I have a pretty clear picture of how this book is going to look when it’s finished. That is a good thing.

Now for the bad thing. This morning at 7:30 I began writing and wrote approximately two paragraphs before looking at it and saying to myself this is bullcrap. It’s frustrating because even though I knew exactly what I wanted to say, for some reason it just didn’t want to come out. I’ve already told myself that tonight or tomorrow morning I shall try again with another story in the book. In first draft there really is no particular order that I must write these stories in. That’s the fun in editing. That is where boo-boos are fixed, flaws are unflawed, t’s are crossed, and i’s are dotted.

Now for a couple of particulars about this project, especially for my Facebook readers. This book is going to be a memoir of my life up to this point, ranging from my earliest memories of childhood through junior high and high school, and junior college and beyond. I wish to make it known quite clearly that I will use no last names unless I have express written permission to do so. This is not going to be a smear-all book.

I have absolutely no time-line for when this project is going to be finished but I can tell you this. Once I really get going on it, I expect it to flow. My editor, Rebecca, will then take over and smooth it out. I am estimating that this project will be completed and ready to be put on my CreateSpace.com e-store for sale in 12 to 18 months. I of course will keep you all updated. Please feel free to contact me with questions or comments. Until next week, take care and have a good weekend.