Wednesday, July 19, 2017

Return of Writing Prompt Wednesday

Long ago, when I first started this blog, I used to post a writing prompt every Wednesday. That lasted for a few months, then life took over and Writing Prompt Wednesday fell by the wayside.

Now, however, I am published, I've quit my day job (not because of writing, but that's a story for another day), and I no longer need an excuse to unabashedly make writing my life (or, well, most of it. I still have three small mouths to feed. And a dog that just wants to play. And a husband who needs love and kisses). So I am bringing back Writing Prompt Wednesday!

Every Wednesday I will post a writing prompt, some made-up, most taken from people cleverer than me. The dreamer in me envisions other people commenting with their responses to the prompt, and even eventually turning it into an occasional writing contest with awesome prizes from yours truly for the winners!

But that may be a day far far into the distant future.

Until then, enjoy Writing Prompt Wednesday. I hope it inspires your writing!

Today's Prompt: Begin a story with the line, "They were eating dinner when a  butterfly floated in and landed on the meatloaf."
(Reprinted by permission all rights reserved (c) C.M. Mayo "Giant Golden Buddha and 364 More 5 Minute Writing Exercises  www.cmmayo.com/d5mwe.html)

They were eating dinner when a  butterfly floated in and landed on the meatloaf. Everyone reacted differently. Billy, not old enough to talk, cooed and laughed and clapped his hands. Grandpa, old enough to talk though everyone wished he wasn't, started to say, "Now that reminds me of that time in the war..." Father attempted to shush him and Mother reached across the table to shoo the butterfly away, knocking over Suzy's water which spilled in her lap, surprising her so much with its coldness that she hit Billy, who started to cry, which reminded Grandpa of another war story Father had heard a million times. Mother helped Suzy wipe up the mess and scolded her for hitting her brother. The butterfly, meanwhile, floated out the window, leaving chaos in its wake.

Love,
The Brown-Eyed Girl

Wednesday, July 5, 2017

My First Book Signing

Years ago at some random bookstore, I remember seeing an author sitting behind a table stacked with his books, awkwardly waiting for someone to come buy one and have him sign it.

I remember thinking, "I never want to do that."

I did, in fact, want to be an author. I have wanted that my whole life. But the awkward pushing of my own book, equivalent to hawking my flesh and blood to any stranger on the street? I could do without that part.

And yet, two weeks ago, I had my turn being that awkward author behind the table.

I forgot names, misspelled words, and repeated myself. And watched in agony as people picked up my book, glanced at it, and put it back down.

The two things that saved me?

This:


True sisterly love and devotion.

And all the amazing people who showed up to support me:




(These pictures don't represent all of you. Some of my pictures aren't loading right. And, let's face it, we don't need to see any more of that shiny forehead.)

When the signing was over, I felt awkward and vulnerable, worn down and insecure. But I also felt loved.

So I will probably do it again.

Here's to being published!
The Brown-Eyed Girl