Though Still A Work In Progress...Love What They've Done So Far

 Last week, I found myself in my old neighborhood, on a street where I lived off and on for half a century. It's still weird for me to go up the hill, take a left at a dead-end road and drive down the street I drove thousands upon thousands of times.

I don't know if it'll ever not feel weird.

Even though it's only been just over two years since we left, part of the fun of returning is to see things that have changed, and things that have not. The house we built has seen some changes, but it looks pretty much like the way it did when we last drove by. My childhood home, however...

Well, that's gone through a lot of changes.

And I think it looks great.

The last time I drove by, I was able to speak to my good friend who bought the home from us after my mother passed away. He said he was thinking about painting the bricks white. He had already painted the addition white. I like white. The old bricks were more yellow, even though I always thought they were white. Up against the new part of the house, you could really see the yellow in the bricks. I told him I thought painting the bricks would help. I didn't realize how much it did.

Another huge project undertaken by my friend is the construction of a concrete staircase for the main entrance. My father built a wood staircase to get upstairs. Those stairs lasted a good long time (that's redwood for you...). Years ago when my friend told me he planned on putting in concrete steps, I couldn't see it. He's close to finishing the stairs and again, I think they look great.

I was hard, in a way, to see the changes. Of course, nothing ever stays the same. My father who built the house and my mother who raised us in that house were both gone. I was glad someone moved it who was going to make changes needed to bring the structure into the next century. He's done that.

We travel to our old hometown several times throughout the year. I'm sure we'll drive down our old street  again...might be in a few months, might be in a few years. There will be more changes and I for one will be glad to see them, too.

I've Been Tagged...Seven Lines From Page Seven, But That's It!

Tonight I was tagged. I was picked by a fellow author to share a portion of my latest Work In Progress.

There's three parts to this little 7/7/7 game. I'm to share seven lines on page seven of my WIP. And then, once I've shared these lines, I'm supposed to tag seven other authors and have them do the same.

That's where I draw the line. I mean, I feel good that I was included, that someone thought I'd like to participate and that they'd like to read what I'm writing. To be honest, I'm interested to see what those seven lines will be from my story.

So, here's those seven lines from page seven of my story:

Eyal jumped as the door to the adobe home flew open and crashed against the wall. Avi’s black frame stood in the doorway, and a rush of wind engulfed the home’s interior, extinguishing the flame and awakening Eyal’s mind.

“Eyal! The sheep—hurry!”

The boy sprang to his feet and followed his father out into the storm.

“What’s wrong?” Eyal yelled. Avi ignored the question, but ran with a determination Eyal seldom saw.

That's it. Thanks Sarah for thinking of me! Sorry I stopped this particular line of the game. But, with everyone else tagging seven other people, I'm not worried it will continue. Oh, and if you'd like to read more, give me some time. It's not done yet. ;)

Attend Writing Retreats...It's Something Writers Do

I have friends who, from their earliest thoughts and reckonings have wanted to be writers. That's all they ever wanted to do. They have stories--many of them very entertaining--about how when they were young (almost always when they're in their single digit years...), they created their first story. It could have been a story about a dragon coming to destroy their school, or about their first pet and how they loved that puppy more than life itself. The point is, these people had a singular goal: to become a writer.

My experience was much different. I approached writing as an adult (more age than maturity...). I didn't do many of the things young writers do like write stories for the literary projects in jr. high or high school. I didn't submit stories to local newspapers or writing contests. But today, I have done something that writers, many writers do. It's something writers talk about doing, and when they talk about it, they usually praise it for how beneficial it is to the craft they love. Today I'm participating in a writing retreat.

There's a half dozen of us, give or take. We're spread out in a rather large house at the base of a mountain. The home itself has a literary history. International best sellers have been written within its walls. We're hoping some of that successful literary karma finds its way into our WIPs. 

For me, I chose the quietest section in the basement, found an incredible comfortable chair and went to work. Not knowing what to expect, I did not make any word count goals for myself today. I think I will tomorrow. I need to push myself and write...write like the wind.

With a trusted portable heater by my side, words have come. Usually when I write, there's either music or TV in the background. Today, only the warming buzz of the heater and distant sounds of creativity are heard.

Yes, as I've learned more about this obsession called "becoming a writer," I've learned there are things you do. I can now cross "going to a writing retreat" off my list.