Weekend Writing Warriors: Odd Duck (Susan’s)

We WriWa bannerHave a WIP, an EIP, an MS, or a published work you want to share on your blog, eight to ten sentences at a time?

Want to sample other people’s WIPs, EIPs, MSs, or published works, eight to ten sentences at a time?

Be a Weekend Writing Warrior!

Rules are here!

List of participants is here!


Or if you’re a fellow Facebook addict (we can quit any time we want to, right?),
why not check out the offerings of the Snippet Sunday gang?


I’m going to share a bit from chapter fifteen because that’s the chapter I’m currently bashing into shape.  I recently added the description below to the scene that originally started with the last three lines.


My GPS directed me to Plainview Heights, one of the bedroom communities that had sprung up to accommodate Talbot’s upper middle management.  It was a nice little neighborhood, maybe a little less lived in than the one I’d grown up in, a mix of single houses and townhomes, with green lawns and clean sidewalks.

It looked cozy and friendly in a Your Friendly Neighborhood Association Is Watching You way.

The house was brick with an arched, solid-looking wooden door banded with dull iron that I was betting wasn’t entirely decorative.  One of the small glass windows at the top displayed three vinyl cling badges. One was for the Talbot City Police Association and another stated that the premises had a security system.  The other was the symbol of the Regional Council.

I rang the doorbell and waited.

A short, round, brunette woman wearing comfortable jeans and an oversized State College sweatshirt opened the door.  “Hello, Tom,” she said.


I always had Regional Werecouncil symbols on doors and menus and things from the first draft of this, but the image up there is a direct result of having a bit too much free time a few weeks ago, plus handy access to a book on symbolism and MS Paint.

The general shape is based on the alchemy symbol for transformation, while the yin yang is a symbol that continually shifts in balance between two states, while each still keeps aspects of the other—those would be the “tadpole eyes”, which were a stone pain to get lined up, believe me.

An hour with Google and a Latin phrase book—a LOT of free time—netted the motto, which means, “Nature Does Nothing in Vain.”  There were several other possibilities for an organization that functions like a shapeshifter U.N.*  and it’s possible I’ll change it in a later draft, once they get their act together I figure out exactly how they operate.

It has crossed my mind that I could have used all that free time to, you know, work on the book, instead of cursing that little paint bucket icon thingie and giggling over bastardized Latin (Te audire no possum; musa sapientum fixa est in aure!).



*Defendit numerus (Safety in Numbers), Ex Aequo (According to what is equal), and Pacta sunt servanda (Agreements must be kept) were the top contenders.  I also liked  Commutabo Ergo Sum (I change, therefore I am)  and Auribus teneo lupum (Holding a wolf by the ears), but by then I was getting a little slap happy.

Random Thursday: Erinaceinae Emeritus, Suckered Sandalium, and Monomorium Moratoriums*

Random Thursday (ˈrandəm ˈTHərzdā): the day on which Sarah plunks down all the odd bits and pieces she’s been sent by friends or has otherwise stumbled upon this week in an effort to avoid writing a real post, the assembly of which usually ends up taking twice as much time as sitting down and creating actual content.

Sorry about skipping Tuesday’s post.  I was too busy avoiding anything to do with writing—like a boss, might I add.



Hedgh og

I certainly understand why this might make someone a bit prickly . . .

I see what you did there


Candy Ants

Candy AntsSo.

The ants came marching one by . . . one thousand . . .  into our kitchen last weekend.

Our regular exterminator is out sick and his sub couldn’t get here until this afternoon.

Which means I’ve been phantom itchy for days.
I’ve been scratching and slapping at hordes of absent insects
like an imaginative hypochondriac with ants crawling all over her kitchen.

It’s not that I don’t appreciate all the things that ants do, like keeping the termites from moving in and breaking down the soil and upholding the matriarchy and all that.

But I’m ready to take a flamethrower to the pantry, just to make sure . . .


Pure Mashy Brilliance

My only complaint is that we can’t get a clear look at Hawkeye.

I’m betting if we could, he’d be Toto.



I’m Gonna Need Seven More of These . . .


 . . . and a Chiropractor.


Nope, Nope, Nopidy, Nope, Nope.

Bringed you a fly

Unless he eats ants.

Then I’d totally give him the run of the kitchen
and fond thoughts from my nearby hotel room.


Tying it All Together**

Kev:  You Thursdayed up?

Me:  I need another video.

Kev: What do you have so far?

Me:  Well . . .

Five minutes later, in my inbox:

Well, played, Earworm King.  Well played.


* Hey, if I had to look all of this up, you have to look it up.

** Except the other video.  But that’s where the random comes in, right?

Weekend Writing Warriors: Odd Duck (Guilt)

We WriWa bannerHave a WIP, an EIP, an MS, or a published work you want to share on your blog, eight to ten sentences at a time?

Want to sample other people’s WIPs, EIPs, MSs, or published works, eight to ten sentences at a time?

Be a Weekend Writing Warrior!

Rules are here!

List of participants is here!


Or if you’re a fellow Facebook addict (we can quit any time we want to, right?),
why not check out the offerings of the Snippet Sunday gang?


Tom is finally coming out of the flashback he’s been having for the past two Sundays.  But that doesn’t mean we get to snap right back to the plot, like it never happened.

A paragraph or so after last week, Tom is back in his lawn chair with a cold bottle of water:


“Better?” Turner asked.

“Yes and no,” I said, exhausted and embarrassed. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be a dumbass,” Turner told me, before going back to the grill.

Dad watched me as I got back into the chair, gripped my shoulder in a way that gave me the benefits of a hug without the fuss, and went to tell Turner what he was doing wrong.

Bryan and I sat in silence for a while.

“Tala and I triggered you,” he said, staring at the bottle in his hand. “We should go.”

“No,” I said. “No, this isn’t your fault; it happens.”


I know the image has little to do with this snippet, unless you’re in a particularly metaphorical mood, but not even for you lovely people would I risk searching the Interwebz for an image of a “dumbass”.  The term is a tad too subjective for my blood pressure.

In other news, I’m going to see “Inside Out” for a delayed birthday present today with my family, so I may be a little late in commenting today, what with the movie and the probable popcorn overdose!

Random Thursday: Variables, Miracles, and a Hidden Squid

Random is as random does.


In Case You Were Wondering:

List of You

(Yeah, Vonnie—you got me)


Sarah’s Spirit Couch

Couch Potato

Judge me all you want, but let’s call a spud a spud.

‘Cause “spud” is fun to say.

Spud, spud, spud, spud, spud, spud, squid, spud, spud, spud, spud, spud . . .



Mathematical Brain Owies

Yes, this is cool.

No, I can’t even.


How to Bring Out That Vein in Your Beloved’s Forehead

Love Lists

Look, you can see their heart beating,
right above their beautiful, bulging eyes,
just for you . . .


Now, THIS is Math I Can Get Behind

Holy Shift

So to speak.

This had Janie on the floor laughing.

I’m expecting a call from her leadership camp any minute now.

In other news, I’ve stopped assembling Thursday posts with my headphones on . . .

(Dang it, Kev—quit undermining my parental authority)


Ice, Ice Baby:

Marty Ray-–who reminds me of my BIL in more than one way—is a true magician.

Behold, for he hath performed the miracle of the age:


(Thanks, Roy!)


Wondering about the hidden squid?

It’s in here somewhere.

Go back and look—I’ll wait.

Recent Reasons to Smile

♥ Janie asked me to have a Five-Minute Sit Down Breakfast with her in the middle of this morning’s chaos.  We managed two, but with a little practice . . .


Give Peas a Chance♥ Give Peas a Chance by Morris Gleitzman. A collection of kid-oriented short stories written by an Australian with an uncanny talent for balancing poignancy with humor (The first one in the collection is here).  The audio version (read by the author and the delightful Ruth Schoenheimer), which I’m listening to in the car right now is even better.  

My favorite so far is “100 Text Messages you must Read Before you Die”, which proves that actions speak louder than words and there’s nothing more actionable than a father’s love for his daughter.


♥ Friends who snark out of affection.


♥ I woke up humming a favorite song that I hadn’t heard in over a year—and it played on the radio during Two-Minute Sit Down Breakfast so I could groove to it in front of the kids.


♥ Pomegranate and Blood Orange Skittles.

Darkside Skittles





(And also the concept of “the other side of the rainbow”)


♥ Air-conditioned workplaces.


♥ Kids in superhero costumes who are happy to have a serious discussion of the merits of Batman versus Captain America with you until their parents coax them away from the library desk.

Cap Shield

Fresh Paint app♥ Children who can be bribed into vacuuming their rooms and setting the table with a pad of drawing paper and an hour on my Fresh Paint app, respectively.


♥ That I managed to discover a continuity error in my WIP and managed to fix it all by myself yesterday.


♥ A Harry Potter/Hot Fuzz crossover fanfic series that works far, far better than it should.  Especially when it calls Dumbledore to task for some of his shenanigans and eventually has Ron in it.

Potter Fuzz

♥ That I had something to blog about after all.