Letting My Monster Go

When a story has your agent’s final mark of approval, there isn’t a word to describe how wonderful it makes you feel. It’s done! Completed! YAY!!! It’s ready for that next step toward publication. At least that’s the way I thought I should feel. I asked a few other authors their feelings on finishing novels because I was very confused with mine. Most I talked to celebrated. They felt proud, relieved and were ready to move on to the next story. I, on the other hand, felt a little sad.

Benjamin Bohns came to me in a dream. He showed his face to me. I was the only one who knew him. I was honored that he picked me to tell his story. Me! A little house wife who lives in the Appalachia Mountains. Me! The world’s worst speller. I often asked, what did he see in me? He must have seen something because for years he was my friend. For years he let me in on his secret life and opened up to only me. For years, I secretly snuck away to my little corner and stayed up late with him while my husband slept on. For years, I got up early typing away…click, click, click…following his lead.

I've never experienced the sadness of sending a child away to college or to be married, etc. but I think I got a taste of that feeling when I knew Mr. Bohns’s story was finished. Like most children, they’re ready to leave and move on but most moms aren't quite ready to let their babies go. Mr. Benjamin Bohns is thrilled with what I’ve done and now he can live on even though he’s dead. I nurtured him well and gave him experiences to help him grow into a fine and proud skeleton. I know he loves me. That is way he’s pushing me to write again.

I guess in Dreadville Mr. Bohns has been pretty busy talking about what I did for him. As I start Dreadville’s next adventure, it’s amazing how many other monsters are waiting for their tale to be told. Who would you like to hear about next?

1.) The Blue Lady and Her Bleeding Hearts

2.) The Frog-Faced Bureaucrat and His Motor Bike Adventure

3.) The Pumpkin Fellow and His Tic-Toc Clock Shop

4.) The Red Devil and His Broken Tail

5.) Licorice Larry and His Man Eating Ice Cream Shopp

6.) ALL THE ABOVE

Once a Farm Girl Always a Farm Girl

When I was little, I remember baking in the sun while crawling down rows of vegetables and weeding for hours. I remember dipping recently butchered chickens in boiling water so I could pluck their feathers. I remember standing over bubbling pressure cookers making sure the temperature gage stayed just right. I remember thinking what a lot of wasted time.

Those were hot and miserable days. I couldn't wait to grab my pole and a can of worms and go fishing in the pond or at Flat Creek. I just didn't get why my Mom thought it important to put up food for the winter. I mean, it was easier to just go to the store and buy it. We canned everything; from watermelon rinds to turkey neck soup. At the end of the growing season, our basement was nothing but shelves of packed jars.

Now that I’m a Mom, my kids ask the question I never did. “If you can buy all this at the store, why do we waste so much time canning?”

I now know the answer. There is nothing more rewarding that opening up a jar rather than a can. There is nothing more rewarding than tasting freshness instead of tin. There is nothing more rewarding than a job well done. There is nothing more rewarding than a family working together. There is nothing more rewarding than knowing you can do it! And this one touches home, for it takes me back as a child; there is nothing more rewarding than knowing through the long winter months, you are not going to go hungry. Mom has just secured your life. Food is in abundance.

Flipping the Driver's Ed Car

As the years pass, we collect experiences that help mold us into who we are. Since the present is usually were we’re focusing, our past events sometimes become forgotten. We all have fun forgotten facts; I’ll share one of mine, if you share one of yours!

My family is large. There are 12 of us counting Mom & Dad. Even though it’s big, the chance of a couple of us rolling and totaling cars is slim. But the fact is we have rolled our share. Six out of us twelve have, and leave it to me to be the one that caused the biggest stink.

It is true; I flipped the Driver’s Ed car. Now, let me explain! It wasn't my fault! Truly it wasn't. Who would put a new driver on a freshly-tarred, black top, curvy road while it was raining? On top of that, lots of loose gravel on the shoulders.

I think you can picture it. Teenager + car + rain + tar + black top road + curve + gravel = disaster. Thankfully we all came out of it okay, though my fellow student in the back booked it to the woods to relieve himself.

R.I.P Ugly Puppy

Since winter our family has talked about getting a puppy. I knew exactly what kind of dog we needed; a Red Bone Hound. Lazy and beautiful is what I was hoping for. But Mike told me my dog picking days were over. The last dog I picked almost killed me.

When spring came, we began our search. We checked the local papers and Craigslist but nothing seemed right. We went to our local pound but instead of roly-poly puppies, the pens were full of angry adults that snapped and barked.

Spring passed, and with its passing so did our hope for a puppy…that is until Mike came home with one a few weeks ago. When he held her out, proud of his pick, the kids all squealed with excitement. I stood in the doorway with hands my hips and said, “That is the ugliest puppy I have ever seen. It looks like a possum!”

Instantly the kids loved her. They called her, ‘Panda’. I called her, ‘Ugly Puppy’. She howled and scratched at our front door. She barked constantly at our cat. She liked to poop in my strawberry patch. Her favorite things to chew were bicycle wheels and she liked to jump on my baby boy. As the weeks went by, I saw puppy disasters everywhere.

Monday night our family went on a nature hike in a field by our home. Panda began to follow. We shooed her home, knowing she couldn't keep up. When we got back, she was gone. We told our worried children she was around and not to fret. When the kids were in bed and I was out watering my flowers, I dropped the hose when I heard the yelp and a car speeding away.

The next morning we buried Panda under the apple tree. We all gathered flowers and said a little prayer. Our youngest, Abe, (5yrs old) was the first of our children to say a little something about our family puppy. He told us, with regretful tears rolling down his chubby cheeks, he was sorry he ran away when Panda wanted to play and he was sorry he pushed her down when she licked him on the face and he was sorry he got mad when he stepped in her poop. He was now going to miss all that. He wished Panda didn't have to die.

If any of us had dry eyes, we didn't anymore. Abe said it perfectly. Puppies aren't perfect; they actually drive us a little crazy at times. But what is perfect about a puppy is all they want is to love and be loved. We realized it didn't matter that our puppy was ugly, we loved her and she loved us. She was a good little mutt.

We will miss you, Ugly Puppy. You have touched our hearts.

The Mouse in the House and the Ugly Puppy

My husband is a yard sale, flea market junky. Every weekend he comes home with boxes of knick knacks, stuffed animals, actions figures, baseball cards, well…I could use this entire page to list the items he brings home. Let’s just say he brings home a bit of everything. He is all about making a profit and so he flips his finds on eBay or sets up a table, from time to time, at the local flea market.

Usually he goes through his finds before toting them up into our bedroom but apparently he failed to do that with one box. As I was working on a story idea, thesaurus in hand, something caught my attention and I looked up. From out of that unexplored box was a mouse jumping up and down, trying to make its escape. In a panic I looked around wondering what I should do. I yelled but no one came to my aid. I was horrified when I watched the mouse finally hop from the box.

I wasn’t about to have a mouse in the house so I did what I could only do. I threw my thesaurus. To my surprise it stuck the mouse! I ran to it noticing it was only stunned and about to come around. I screeched and finally my 11yr old daughter heard my alarm. To my rescue she came. “Are you kidding?” I asked as she handed me two pieces of toilet paper. But before I could tell her to run for a cup or something, the mouse was on the run again. I grabbed it, with my two pieces of toilet paper, and hurried down the stairs to throw it outside.

Warlock, our great hunter of a cat, turned his nose up at the mouse when I tossed it out. He even lifted his paw as if saying “ewww” and backed away. It was our ugly, possum looking puppy that ended the drama. He came over and with one chomp swallowed the thing whole.

Maybe that ugly thing is worth something after all.

What's That Coming Over the Hill???

Since my book is all about monsters, I often wonder what kind I would be. According to Wikipedia: ‘a monster is any fictional creature, usually found in legends...’

I always believed in order to be a monster, one had to be blood thirsty, wanted to eat my brains or lurked in the depths of a green, slimy swamp. As I wrote, I realized that any creature we believe to be made-up is actually a monster.

So that leaves hobbits and gnomes in the same class as vampires and zombies! Do these little innocent dwellers, that keep to themselves, deserve to be called monsters?

Take a moment and think about your personality. Deep down, who are you really? Are you an innocent monster or a bad monster?

Mike says I’d be a gnome. I know he said that because I’m short. He didn’t even give me that hope of calling me a hobbit! He skipped right over that. At least he didn’t see me with hairy feet! Even though he may look at me as a little gnome and wish me to be one, I know I am not. If I were a monster, I’d be a pixie. Though I seem innocent and sweet, it is me who is the one smiling in the background while everyone else is blaming others for the trick I have just done!

HeHe…look out for me!

What monster would you be and why?

Father's Day

Hello everyone! I'm starting a blog and would love to invite all my facebook friends to join in the fun. I'm kind of new to all this so maybe some of you can give me pointers as I go.

Father's Day!!!

When I was a little girl I had to share a bedroom with my older sister. When Ann was a baby my parents started her on a Madame Alexander doll collection. Every birthday or Christmas she was given a new doll. Around their waist's she would twist thin wire and then tack the dolls on the walls around our room. Most little sisters would have looked at these pretty little dolls and dreamed of having such a collection, but I wasn't like most little sisters. When I looked upon these dolls (I rarely ever did) I saw little people that stared right back at me. I was terrified of my room. When night came, there was never getting out of sleeping elsewhere. I had a bedroom and a bed and that was where I was to sleep. One night when I was being tucked in by my Dad, I told him I was scared. I was embarrassed to tell him why because I feared my big sister would make fun of me. I asked him if he would, "leave a little light on the door." I believed that if there was light that shined into my room from the hall I would be safe from all those dolls that wanted to eat me. Of course Ann complained saying she couldn't sleep with the light shining in but Dad, knowing I was scared of something, solved the problem. To the door he did a jig and sang this little song, "Leave a little light on the door," Kicking out a foot and throwing out an arm, he'd continue, "Carrie wants some light on the door. Leave a little light on the door," etc... Ann and I would laugh and those pretty monster dolls would suddenly go away.

I love my Dad. His quirkiness has always made me smile and helped define who I am.

What is one of your favorite dad, uncle, grandfather or father figure stories?