The Juices Flow

woman-writer-picture_csp17558913I’m BAAAACKK!! This was a really strange year for me in many aspects, and honestly I was lost for most of it. (more on that in a year end confessional).  BUT my last 3 posts here are a big part of why I’m back and what I’ll be doing in the future… so I’m linking them here as a refresher for anyone interested.

Who’s That Where Did She Come From

The Week That Made Me Sing

The Woman That Stole My Heart (and more on this one in another end of year confessional)

So the crux of those is that in the spring and summer of this year I got creative again (thanks to a D&D game), because #nerd), and started writing. But thinking back now (actually this occurred to me at the 1am doggie potty break) I was writing for years- here and on store blogs. So now I’m back in this interwebs space (while it still exists, thanks FCC for ruining so many’s access) to continue writing in more public ways.  What I’ve been writing in private this summer was one entire novel, three essays for another feminist blog, two character short stories that have or will be published in anthologies, and several fantasy romance short stories, (which I am now working on to make into a book of themed/linked stories), plus the very beginning inkling ideas for two more novellas.  Anyway, I thought when I’m feeling gutsy enough I’d share some of the creative writing, in whatever crude form it is in, HERE.  

First up is a rough draft of the beginning of a holiday story I wrote for my friend Adriano. I never did go back and finish it… maybe I will, maybe I won’t.   It was a quick early morning writing inspired by something he said in a text chat, that I have not gone back to since October when I typed it out like a madwoman awake at 5am with a story burned on her brain… so in other words, it’s rough, really really rough, so be nice!


So here is my first public sharing of a creative piece I wrote (glorious typos and grammar errors and all!)-

The wind blew gusts of snow against the windows as Carl made his way to his desk, cane in hand.  He hoped his coffee was waiting for him, he needed that jolt of hot liquid to warm his bones on this cold early November morning.  It was going to be another day of looking at reports, his least favorite part of this job. He was on the T’s and would be done soon, thankfully, and then the fun would start as they entered the busy season.  His time with the company was waning and next year he’d have to start interviewing for his replacement, but for now he was still the boss and had work to do before his crew could take their much-needed annual holiday break.

“Doc, I’m here. Let’s get started with today’s list,” Carl bellowed as he opened the back door to his office.

In rushed his office manager of the last thirty years, and equally elderly man with beard, bald head, and large ears. Dedicated to his job, he arrived before Carl and stayed late into the night, especially during their busiest months each fall.

“Right here, sir.  We’re in the middle of the T’s and I expect we should be done by the end of the week.  The factory reports they are already working on items for letters A through D and should be able to start on E & F tomorrow.  Distribution is busy laying out the pallets by location. Transportation reports that repairs have begun on the delivery vehicle and it should be ready for first inspection no later than middle of next week.”

“Thank you Doc. You know this operation would cease if it were not for you, right?”

“Well that is kind sir, but you are the public persona, so I think you are what keeps this going for so long.”


Carl sat down, looked at his desk and the pile of papers Doc had just laid down. Yes!. His coffee was there waiting for him and piping hot.  His personal assistant, Bell, had a way to making sure his coffee was always the perfect temperature for him.  Someday he’d figure out her magical secret.

“To work we go, Doc.  Let’s make this the best year yet.”

Doc nodded and went out the front door, leaving it cracked open should the big bossman need something from him or Bell, and went to his own desk to pore over yesterday’s reports before sending them down to the factory. Several hours of silence passed. Bell came and went delivering additional cups of coffee to Carl and then to the kitchens to prepare his lunch.

“DOC!!” Carl, who usually didn’t call so loudly for his manager, bellowed.  “Doc ,Come here! I need to talk to you!”

Surprised, Doc moved shockingly fast for someone of his many years.

“Yes, sir.  What can I do for you?”

“Doc, I know this company has been around a lot longer than you or I have been alive, and that’s saying something.  And I know we have our traditions. The public has come to expect just that from us.  But, I’m sitting here looking at this report… and let’s not beat around the bush, we both know this is our last full season with the company… I’m thinking… well… we categorize them all into two categories.  Why only two.  I mean why only ‘naughty’ and ‘nice’?  They can’t all fit into one of those categories.  I’m looking here at Timmy in Tucson.  He’s leaning toward naughty from all the reports here- he hit his teacher, he ran away from home, and he’s not following his father’s rules.  But then I look at the rest of the report.  He’s a five-year-old boy whose parents are in the middle of a bitter divorce. He can’t be entirely responsible for his actions, he’s NOT naughty, he’s being a boy in a situation that makes him unhappy. And then there’s Theresa in Tallahassee.  On the first line of the report we see that she goes to church every Sunday, she has decent grades, lots of friends and all that indicates she gets grouped into ‘nice’, but then I read this line from one of our watchers about her looking into the mirror saying she can’t wait to win some pageant and show how much better she is than her old friend Meggy who she doesn’t talk to anymore because Meggy got braces… that’s not very nice, is it?  There has to be some other category, some other way to do this.”

“Sir this system has worked for generations. Previous Clauses did just fine with it.”

“But I’m not. Not this year.  We shouldn’t have the power to label little children from hundreds, thousands of miles away. No. This isn’t right.  I think it’s time I made my mark on this job.  BELL! Bell!  Bring me my suit! I’m going to Tucson.”

“Sir!” A startled Doc tried to reason with Santa,  “I don’t think this is a good time to do that. If you show up in early November in your suit they will notice, you can’t blend in with mall Santas until closer to their Thanksgiving.”

“You’re right.  Bell!  Scratch that, bring me the suit suit!”

A panting young elf with frizzy red hair ran to the door, carrying a large red suit with white fur trim.  “Sir, are you sure?  You haven’t worn the suit suit in 40 years!”

“I’m sure.  Now what can I pretend to be?  Oh, I know, a teacher!  I can go to this Timmy’s school and meet him that way. Let’s go team.  Let’s figure this out. What else is there beyond ‘naughty’ and ‘nice’?”