Writers Encouraging Writers


Saturday Writers, a chapter of the Missouri Writers Guild, recently published its 8th anthology, Under the Surface. Saturday Writers's photo.

The stories, poems, essays and memoirs represent the winners of the monthly contests sponsored by Saturday Writers.  The contests are open to writers across the nation.  More information can be found at http://www.saturdaywriters.org

“Writers Encouraging Writers”  is the motto of Saturday Writers and they certainly deliver that to their members.  With their support and encouragement, I dared to submit four entries this past year. Three of my submissions are in the book.

So to all my fellow writers, I share words of encouragement.  Write from your heart, dare to be heard and give thanks for the gift. You never know what you can do until you try.

Recovering From A Laptop Injury


It happened in Chicago on a cold November day.  Perhaps I was distracted by the snow falling or worried about getting to the train station on time.  It happened so fast, there was no time to avoid the crash.  The severity of the injuries did not surface until I was back in Missouri

The three day trip had been a success.  Locked away in a hotel room, diligently working on the final edits of my manuscript, I boasted to my friend that the changes would be finished by the end of November.  It had been a work-in-progress for three years and my goal to publish my first novel would be accomplished soon.

Secure in the warmth of my home, I turned on my laptop and waited patiently for Windows to load so that I could admire the progress made in recent months.  I waited and waited, and waited some more.  Perhaps if I turned it off and tried again. Nothing.  “Noooooooo!”

Images of the suitcase and travel bag tipping over before my departure flashed in my mind.  The unfortunate sound of the bag crashing to the floor echoed like a cry for help in a forsaken canyon.  I look at the blank screen and cover my mouth, stifling another moan.  The small flash drive, overlooked when I packed for my trip, snickered at me from the shelf nearby. Yes, it did.  It snickered as it taunted me, “You fool.  You fool.”

I rushed my beloved to the nearest emergency room and waited anxiously as the patient was examined.  The technician delivered the news.  The injury was not fatal, but the prognosis was not good.  It was a brain injury.  While it could be repaired, all memory of the last four years would be erased.  The black box would not longer recognize me nor all the hours we spent together.

The news sent me into a dark hole.  Devastated, depressed, hopeless.  For two months my fingers have been idle and my sole mate stashed away in the travel bag in a dark corner of a room, waiting for me to make a move.  Week after week, my husband passed me adds as a form of relief.  I tossed them aside.

I have considered my options.  Show support for my loyal friend and pay for a new engine, hoping that nothing else fails.  Trade it in for a newer model.  The decision pains me.  One side of my brain is enticed by the shiny new models that chant “Savvy touch screens, faster speeds, wealth of memory.  Try it, you’ll love it.” The other side screams back.  “Think about the cost,” The software’s in your drawer.  It can be reinstalled.  You recognize it; you’re familiar with it.  You don’t like change anyway.”

My tears have dried.  My mourning has turned into boredom.  My disappointment in myself for not securing my work has formed new resolutions.  So what is holding me back?  Fear.  What if I can’t find the words?  What if I can’t get the router and printer to recognize my companion?  What if I fail as a writer? What if no one cares if I ever write again?

I know the answer to the last one.  I must write.  As steady as the blood that runs through my veins, the urge to write beckons me.  I hear my lonesome pen call my name.  I caress it in my hand and then press it to the yellow pad of paper.  Words spill forth filling the once empty lines and my first post in many months comes to life.  Pen to paper, post to blog, short story to novel.  One step at a time. One foot in front of the other.  The journey continues.

And the Countdown Begins!


Just a few days until the madness begins.

I heard about National Novel Writing Month (NANOWRIMO) late in October last year.  I had no outline, no conception of a plot or climax; only a newspaper article that I had kept from 10 years ago about a wild horse sanctuary in Nevada.  During a writing class I took many years ago, I developed three characters that had found their way into my mind and visited often.  I introduced them to each other and they proceeded to tell me their story.

Honestly, each day I sat in front of my computer with no preconceived notion of what I would write next.  Yet, the characters knew and took me to places I could never have imagined and by the end of November, Burning Embers became a reality.

NANOWRIMO gives me the push I need to finally compose the novel that dances around in my head like bits of a tune whose words I can’t remember.  For those who have never taken the challenge, it is every procrastinators dream and nightmare, but well worth the effort.

Thursday, I will begin writing the sequel to my first novel.  This time I have developed an outline and will introduce a few new characters who have stopped by for a visit.  I haven’t really had time to get to know them, but I’m sure they will introduce themselves and unveil their true identity as the month progresses.

I’ve given fair warning to my family, stocked up on extra coffee and cleared a few hours each day on the calendar.  I’m excited and apprehensive.  It’s not an easy challenge, but most things in life that are worth it come with a price.  Can’t wait to see how the story unfolds.

Interested in joining me? Visithttp://nanowrimo.org