writing

Saturday Afternoon Chat: Crazy weather and crazy weather and some reading time

/ Lisa R. Howeler / 5 Comments

I read on Instagram that today is National Drink Hot Tea Day. There is always a national something or other day and I sometimes wonder who even keeps track of them all so people on social media can use it as content to talk about.

Anyhow, I’m drinking some peppermint tea with honey later today, not because I don’t have any other tea, but because I had some other types of tea earlier in the week and I wanted my old standby today.

Also later today I will be lighting a fire because our temps are going to plummet very fast this afternoon into this evening until they are in the 20s tomorrow and then the single digits at night and in the mornings starting Monday.

We are also under a high wind advisory today and when you live in a semi-rural area surrounded by trees (including a really old, really tall one in front of my house), you tend to get very nervous about high wind advisories. You also expect to lose power at some point, which makes me a little nervous since today it will be just me and Little Miss at home. The Husband is working and The Boy is going to a friend’s house.

I don’t do well health-wise in either very hot temperatures or very cold ones so I am not looking forward to the cold weather. I will not be leaving my house much at all during the cold weather snap because it irritates my asthma. I will be going out enough to pick up my son from the bus stop because I don’t want him to have to walk up our hill in such cold weather.

I am supposed to go visit my parents for lunch tomorrow when it is only supposed to be about 26 but I’ll see if I still want to do that or not. I practically have to be dragged outside kicking and screaming when it is super cold or when it is super hot.

The weather has been very odd here lately but that is somewhat normal for Pennsylvania this time of year.

Last weekend we had a snowstorm that lasted two days. By Tuesday it was rain and wind and the threat of flooding. Then off and on during the week snow and hail came and last night there was a burst of snow that covered the ground right before freezing rain came in and left the entire yard in a sheen of ice. To say winter has decided to show up this month is an understatement.

This past week I stayed inside every day and was a slug part of the time because of the weather. I read books, worked on my novel, wrote some blog posts, made some social media posts, enjoyed the fire, sipped tea and cocoa, cooked dinner, did the dishes a couple of times, ignored piles of books and papers I don’t know what to do with, and overall just enjoyed being a hermit and not having to go anywhere.

Yesterday I had to go pick up groceries but I really can’t complain because one, I had to drive there and they put them in the car, and two, my husband had to go out in this awful weather all week for work so he’s got the real cruddy end of the bargain here.

No one went with me to pick up groceries this time so it was just me in the car, listening to James Herriot’s Treasury for Children on Audible. I was going to listen to a Jane Austen collection but my phone claimed it wasn’t downloaded and it turned out better to listen to the one from James Herriot anyhow because it is so relaxing and my day really wasn’t relaxing for a variety of reasons – mainly family stuff and a lot of things on my mind about said family.

Today I hope to relax some but Little Miss wants me to play a video game with her and watch a movie. I honestly do not understand why my children always want me to play video games with them. I do not enjoy video games but they are just so excited to show Mom how to play it and then laugh at her when she can’t figure it out. My son wanted me to play Skyrim one time and I ran the guy into the wall over and over for like ten minutes.

It’s now a running joke in our house. My son will say something like, “Look, I’m Mom playing Skyrim,” and then just run into a wall several times while looking over his shoulder saying, “Don’t worry, Havar. I’m coming! I swear! If I can figure out this controller, I’m coming to help you.”

Of course, by then Havar was dead because I was still running into a wall.

This upcoming week I really need to work more on my book, Cassie. It’s been hard to get going on it but I hope to have it done in February so I can start work on my next Gladwynn book.

This week my dad left me a comment on my Facebook cover where I was promoting the second book and it really meant a lot because my dad is not a reader. He’s really never had time to read and if he did, he chose non-fiction books, such as theology books.

Mom told me he read my first book in the Gladwynn Grant Mysteries, though, reading a chapter or so a night before bed. When he was done, he told me it felt weird not having the book to read so I was glad that it wasn’t long after that when I realized the second book.

Now he is in the middle of the second book so I really need to start writing book three for him.

This is the message he left on the photograph for the book on my page: am not much of a reader at all and very seldom read fiction and I watch very few movies.

Like who wants to read about something that is not? Lol. Evidently a lot of people.

Anyway, I got into the first Gladwyn Mystery and found it intriguing, and starting this one I find it more so.

Sometimes I think wow, I never knew that 😉lol. You see Gladwynn Grant, a mixture of intelligent, ditzy curious, and almost cunning, was my mother’s name.

Okay off to store a few more clues and along the way to the hometown theater find out what happened to Samantha.👩‍💼🧐🤔 🙂😋“”

Dad hasn’t always been super supportive of me writing fiction (“You have to actually go places to write books and you don’t go anywhere or have a lot of experience,” he told me once. Sigh. Dads.) so the fact he’s enjoyed these Gladwynn books has meant a lot to me.

Well, I am off to watch the 2005 version of Pride and Prejudice, which I am watching as part of Erin (Still Life, With Cracker Crumbs) and my Jane Austen January Feature. I will warn you that this version is not my favorite and I am actually finding it a bit annoying at this point. I promise to try my best to be polite about it when I write about it on Thursday.

I will be back tomorrow with Sunday Bookends, where I will ramble about what I’ve been reading and what I hope to read and all that jazz.

How was your week last week? Did you do anything exciting? And what’s your tea of choice these days?


`10 on 10: Ten Things I want to accomplish, learn, master or create

/ Lisa R. Howeler / 11 Comments

I am finally joining up with Marsha in the Middle’s 10 on 10 today. I have forgotten to do it every other month, but here I am to talk about ten things I want to accomplish, learn, master, or create this year or in the future. I don’t know if it has to be this year but, in the future, at least.

So here we go:

1. I want to learn more about taking photos with film and developing it myself.

I have taken photographs for years, starting out in film when I was in high school. I didn’t know enough about film back then to know what I was doing. I simply took the photographs and then took them to be developed at a drug store like Rite Aid or CVS. When I worked in newspapers in college, we had a staff photographer who would develop all the film and refused to teach me how to do it when I asked.

All I knew was there was a rotating door that spun him into some dark room and he developed film until one day he didn’t anymore because we either took the photographs to Rite Aid or we started using digital cameras.

To this day, he is one of the best photographers I have ever seen, but back then he could be a real jerk to the newbies. I still wish he’d slowed down and taught me more about film photography.

2. I want to learn to cook better.

I can cook fine to make dinner for The Husband and kids, but I really want to learn more about how to cook different dishes and how to bake. Our oven has been broken for a couple of years now but we hope to have it fixed soon so that will help some of my efforts to become a better cook. I have learned more about cooking in an electric frying pan, an air fryer, and an Instapot without the oven, though.

3. I want to create a book of my dad’s writings and my grandfather’s poems and I hope to do that this year.

I already have the poems and all I have to do is typeset (old newspaper word) them into the computer and get them ready for publication. Wish me luck. My grandfather wrote poems about anything and everything. My dad writes little pieces of prose and I’d love to put them in the book as well and give it to my dad for Father’s Day.

My maternal grandmother was also a writer and poet so her work will be next on my list.

4. I want to be able to finish this book I am writing now.

I am really struggling with my latest manuscript and it is one hundred percent my fault. I agreed to join a multi-author project where there were all these rules about what I could write and how for the book I am contributing. In my own defense, there weren’t that many rules when I agreed to do it. All I knew was the book had to be written in the 1990s and it had to be a certain word length and there would be a cookbook involved that would tie all the books in the series together.

Once I signed on even more rules were thrown in and I was stuck because pulling out of the project meant leaving the other authors hanging. So I am plodding forward and asking God for help because this is not how I usually write my novels. I have my own ideas of how I want the story to go, who I want the characters to be and what the plot will be. The story is my own. In this instance, it does not feel like it is my own. Pray for me.

5. Start a clean fiction book club either online or in person

I would really love to start a book club for clean fiction either in person or online. We’d choose one book, read it for the month, and then discuss it at the end of the month. This would be easy to do, I just don’t seem to be able to slow down and do it.

6. To move forward and not hold on to the hurts of my past.

This one will not be easy for me. I have a lot of hurts from the past that I am holding on to. Almost all of them were betrayals and abandonment by people who were close to me at one time (not my parents so, no, this isn’t a therapy session. Ha!). I want to let all of that go and hold on to my word for the year – onward.

By onward I mean I want to go, “yes, I was hurt, but no I won’t react like I usually do and retreat away from that person or life. I won’t purposely ignore a person if they reach out, even if they hurt me. That doesn’t, however, mean I will fully trust them or open myself up to a friendship or relationship with them but I want to say, “That happened. They hurt me. Move on and let them live their life without me sitting and seething inside about how they hurt me.”

It will be hard for me because I put up walls very fast and behind those walls I ruminate about the hurt I’ve been inflicted. For years and years. I hope to let that go this year and in future years – or at least keep working on doing so.

7. Start a podcast with Erin and not be afraid of public speaking.

So this is actually two but they go hand in hand. Erin and I from Still Life, With Cracker Crumbs want to start a podcast and ramble about whatever we ramble about. We are both trying to be brave and not only offer ourselves and others an escape from the stresses of life but maybe find ways to earn extra income for our families. How will we do that through a podcast? I have no idea. Maybe we can tell people about my books and Erin’s journals and books and who knows. The avenues to reach our goals are wide open, we just have to take them.

8. Reading more of the Bible and recording the verses I read.

I have started a yearly Bible verse reading project and I really hope to stick with it throughout the year. I want to get up in the mornings and read my verse and write it down in my journal to work on memorizing scripture and taking in what the verses really mean. How to apply them to my life, in other words.

Right now I am using a list I found on Instagram, which Erin shared with me and hopefully, I can use a list from the same account throughout the year. So far, I only have January’s list.

9. Master how to write a novel quickly.

This goes along with my other writing goals but I really do want to learn how to quickly write a novel and plot better. Right now I write most of my novels by the seat of my pants and in the writing world that is known as “pantsing.” I really hope to be able to plot a bit better in the future and bring the stories together a little faster so I can hit the deadlines I set for myself. As an indie author, I set my own deadlines for most of my books (except the book I mentioned above where deadlines were set for me.)

10. Travel more and have more experiences outside my house.

I suffer from some chronic health issues and sometimes crippling anxiety so I really would love to travel more and have some more experiences outside of my house and immediate area at some point in my life. Erin and I have discussed meeting each other halfway so we can actually meet each other in person so that is a goal for me. I also want to get over my fear of having a “spell” in public because that is one thing (along with time and money) that holds me back.

I do have vertigo and weakness spells a lot and that seems to go with whatever autoimmune issues I have (doctors haven’t really diagnosed me with anything because they just think I’m crazy and pretty much tell me so and offer me antidepressants.). I want to be able to manage them and the crazy anxiety symptoms that come as well, so I can travel further and just live a little more.

    So this was my 10 on the 10th for the month. How about you? Do you have accomplishments you want to reach? Things you want to master or conquer?  Let me know in the comments and if you want to join in on Marsha’s 10 on 10, find her link up here: https://marshainthemiddle.com/10-on-the-10th-january-2024/

    Saturday Afternoon Chat December 2: A hodgepodge of thoughts about my week and the week to come

    / Lisa R. Howeler / 11 Comments

    Dry skin. That’s what I’ve got right now.

    Horrible dry skin from the dry air in our house.

    Don’t worry – it just feels dry. I won’t describe how it looks because it doesn’t look bad. It just looks — pale and dry.

    We don’t have a humidifier downstairs but I think we are going to have to get one because when I get dry skin it causes my entire body to feel inflamed with itchiness. It’s a horrible feeling and sometimes I have to practically bathe myself in lotion to get relief.

    I have a soap I use from Cetaphil that is moisturizing and helps immensely.

    I find it fairly cheap on Amazon and at Walmart (no, this is not a sponsored post. I promise.) but I’m sure you can find it in other places as well.

    Cetaphil used to make an amazing lotion too, but they changed the ingredients earlier this year and I don’t think it works as well.

    My mom keeps telling me to put lotion or coconut oil on right after a shower to help my skin absorb the moisture but I always forget and pay for it later.

    What do you, dear readers, use to help your dry skin if you have it? My curious mind wants to know.

    An uneventful week where we almost died . . .

    This past week was a rather uneventful week.

    The only day I had something to do was yesterday when I drove 30 minutes down and back to pick up our groceries. On our way there some driver decided he’d try to pass a truck and a car on a stretch of road right on a corner, where there were double lines, and in a spot on the highway near my parents where there have been a number of fatalities over the years. When I saw him in my lane I couldn’t believe it.

    I laid on the horn and luckily, he yanked back into his lane but it was certainly a frightening experience.

    I’m not sure what was so important that this person needed to risk everyone’s life but I have a feeling he needed a beer.

    I’m kidding.

    Sort of.

    Tonight The Husband, Little Miss, and I are headed to a Christmas parade in a tiny town half an hour away. He has to attend the event for work and I decided Little Miss needs to get out of the house and see her friends because she’s so bored that she’s started asking The Husband and I to play Hide and Seek or Red Light, Green Light with her.

    She’s really gotten desperate for entertainment apparently. We are not really the most fun and we are easily distractable.

    A question for my readers . . .

    This reminds me of a conversation I had with a friend recently. I said Little Miss wanted me to play dolls and stuffies with her and she said she was always impressed with how I played with my daughter because most parents she knows don’t do that.

    I have a variety of ages reading my blog so my question to all of you is if you play(ed) with your children when they were young or if you did what my mom did which was essentially tell me to go find a way to entertain myself. She wasn’t rude at all. She just had work to do in the house and couldn’t sit and play all afternoon so she’d gently suggest I go draw or play with my dolls on my own if I asked.

    I don’t even remember asking, actually. I was used to drawing or playing on my own a lot. I was sort of a lonely kid with only a handful of friends my entire childhood. In fact, I was a lot like Little Miss is now and only had two close friends (sisters) until junior high.

    She also has two sisters as her friends.

    Her other two friends moved to Texas in the summer but are returning for a visit around Christmas.

    As a follow-up to the question of if you played with your children, did your parents play with you? I mean, I know most parents at least throw a ball with their kids or play some board games, but did you really sit down and play with the dolls and their stuffed animals?

    I like to do that some with Little Miss because I think it helps to develop her imaginative play and I know how important play is to the development of a child. I can’t, however, do it all day like she wants me to.

    Moving on . . .

    Right now I am listening to Cozy Cafe Ambience – Relaxing Smooth Jazz Music with Rain & Thunder Sounds at Night on YouTube. I’m trying to drown out the noise of my house. We don’t have a lot of people in our house but it is very noisy.

    Little Miss seems to think she has to have the TV on at all times, even while talking to her friends on a chat app while they play online games.

    She’s not watching anything bad – it’s often a show on YouTube about reptiles that she likes. I don’t allow her to have YouTube on her phone anymore because she was watching all those Shorts and they were kicking out some very inappropriate stuff at her.

    Even though the shows she watches aren’t bad, it’s constant noise.

    I find it hard to focus on what I am writing with the constant chatter and interruptions. (How many times should a dog need to go out in an hour? Asking for a “friend.”) Sometimes I’m amazed I get any books or blog posts written but I do so by making myself get up early, before all the chatter starts, and also by going into the kitchen and sitting at the kitchen table where I’m a little bit more removed from the noise.

    Oh and sometimes I just tell Little Miss to turn it all off! That helps too.

    Today I goofed off this morning when Little Miss and others were sleeping so that’s my own fault for having to deal with the noise and activity.

    We are having a slightly warmer day with rain forecasted for later on.

    Then we will be dropping back into the 30s tomorrow. I know I was wishing for the cooler weather so I could cozy up under a blanket with a good book but on days like this when it isn’t exactly cold enough to light the fire but we don’t really want to turn the heat up too much and use up our heating oil, I find I don’t enjoy cuddling under a blanket as much as I hoped I would.

    We do tend to romanticize the whole idea of a warm blanket, a cup of tea, and a good book, don’t we? We never factor in our cold nose or fingers, the cat that wants to warm up with us so she lays on our chest (right under our chin), or the way the tea gets really cold in the chilly air so we have to keep getting up to warm it up.

    Or at least I don’t always think of all those negatives.

    But, I think I’ll still continue to romanticize my life a little. Finding those little moments of magic are important, even if they aren’t as perfect as we had imagined. Plus, I have the option to turn the heat up, I have a roof over my head and a nice house, my family around me to make me laugh and smile (even if I sometimes have to tell them to be quiet so I can think.), I have food in my cupboards and fridge, and I have the luxury of being able to choose when I want to read or right – most of the time.

    I’m very lucky and even though I grumble a bit from time to time (usually in jest, not a real grumble) I recognize that and I am grateful for it all.

    “When it comes to life the critical thing is whether you take things for granted or take them with gratitude.”

    — G.K. Chesterton

    How was your week?

    Did you do anything holiday-related yet?

    Read anything good or have a fun experience?

    Let me know in the comments.

    Sunday Bookends: Finding a YouTuber I thought I lost, finishing books (someday), still working on the book I’m writing

    / Lisa R. Howeler / 4 Comments

    It’s time for our Sunday morning chat. On Sundays, I ramble about what’s been going on, what the rest of the family and I have been reading and watching, and what I’ve been writing, and some weeks I share what I am listening to.


    What I/we’ve been reading


    I am still reading Murder at the Vicarage by Agatha Christie because I worked on my book a lot last week instead of reading it. I hope to finish the book this week.

    I am also reading Meant to Bee by Storm Shultz, a short romance novel. I plan to have that finished today.

    The Boy and I are reading Fellowship of the Ring and we are not reading it as quickly as I think we should so this week I am telling him we need to set aside an hour a day for each of us just to finish it. Not an hour straight but maybe half an hour here and half an hour there. I hope to finish this book before the end of the school year, which will be June 3 for us.

    Little Miss and I have been slow readers lately but I really would like to finish The Place of the Big Read Apples by Roger Lea MacBride this week and move on to something else.

    What’s Been Occurring

    I wrote about what we did last week in yesterday’s post. I mentioned that our temperature was close to 70 yesterday and was going to drop into the 30s overnight and it did, sadly. Yesterday we went outside without coats and today I woke up to snow on the ground. This week is supposed to warm up some, but not yet too close to 70.

    This coming week the kids have classes – gymnastics for Little Miss and bass lessons for The Boy.

    Little Miss usually has gymnastics on Saturdays but this past week she had an Easter egg hunt instead so we are making up her class tomorrow.

    The bass lesson will be The Boy’s first and it’s about a 45-minute drive north so I am enlisting the help of my dad to take either Little Miss to her class or The Boy to his.

    What’s planned for your week this week?

    What We watched/are Watching

    I was so excited this week when my friend Erin from Still Life, With Cookie Crumbs, told me she was watching a Youtuber I like. I was excited because I had lost this YouTuber in my list of subscriptions and it was driving me crazy! Little Miss sometimes watches kids’ shows on YouTube and she will subscribe to anything she watches so I had hundreds of subscriptions, many of which I did not want, and I could not find Forgotten Way Farms or remember it’s name! When Erin reminded me of the name I was so happy. Why was I happy? Well, because my life is a little sad and sometimes I enjoy an escape in videos that are fairly light, mundane, and calming.

    This vlogger records her everyday life and cooks and has a very soothing voice, so I enjoy watching her. I am fairly certain I shared her on the blog before but when I went back to find the video I had shared to remind me of her channel name, I couldn’t find it.

    Now that I found it again, I have the notifications set that it will tell me every time she posts.

    This week I also watched Darling Desi who has now moved from Utah to Connecticut but still vlogs about cottage core-type stuff and fluffy books she reads.

    The Husband and I didn’t have as much time to watch things this week but we did watch the final episode of the first season of Miss Scarlet and The Duke. We are behind because there are three seasons of the show.

    We also watched Yes, Minister which is a British sitcom from the 1970s and is very witty and funny. Sometimes it is too witty because I don’t even get it. It’s sort of an elite comedy with references to politics that go right over my head at times.

    The man who stars in Yes, Minister played the vicar in a Miss Marple episode I watched once and started to rewatch recently. Luckily, I didn’t watch the end of it because it is now the book I am reading and I’m not sure if the show will keep to the book or not. The issue is that now when I think of the vicar, who is the narrator of the book, I picture and hear the actor from Yes, Minister.

    This week I’ll be watching Houseboat with Cary Grant for my Spring of Cary feature and will write about it on Thursday. Go ahead and jump in if you want to.


    What I’m Writing

    I’ve been mentioning that I have been working on Gladwynn Grant Gets Her Footing, which I hope to release June 20th. This will be the first book in a new cozy mystery series.

    I worked on the book a lot this past week, which gave me less time to write blog posts.

    I have started to offer paid subscriptions to my newsletter and I will be offering the chapters for this book as I write them to paid subscribers on Substack.

    However, I will be setting up subscriptions for longtime readers of my blogs that allows them access to this feature for free. If you are someone who has been following me for a long time and would like a sneak peek of this first book, send me your email through my contact form and I will add you to that exclusive subscriber group. I’ll start offering the chapters later this week.

    I only wrote two blog posts this past week on the blog:

    Saturday Afternoon Tea: Book sales, good food, and impatiently waiting for spring

    The Spring of Cary Grant

    Blog Posts I Enjoyed This Past Week

    I Smell Like a Shamrock by Various Ramblings of a Nostalgic Italian

    Tuesday Tour Oh Henry by Mama’s Empty Nest

    Seeing and Believing by Welcome to My Hearts Cry

    Books That Feel Like Spring by Still Life, With Cracker Crumbs


    Now it’s your turn

    Now it’s your turn. What have you been doing, watching, reading, listening to or writing? Let me know in the comments or leave a blog post link if you also write a weekly update like this.

    Fiction Friday: Mercy’s Shore Chapter 15

    / Lisa R. Howeler / 2 Comments

    This is a continuing/serial story. I share a chapter a week and at the end of the story, and after I edit and rewrite, I self-publish it. To catch up with the story click HERE. To read the rest of the books in this series click HERE. Let me know in the comments what you think.

    Chapter 15

    “So, the dude with Angie is her boyfriend.” Judi pushed a bite of cake into her mouth. “He’s a doctor.”

    The cake was amazing. Judi hadn’t eaten cake in — well, she didn’t know how long. She’d always stayed away from cake to try to keep her figure. She couldn’t believe what she’d been missing. This had been her third piece since they’d gotten there.

    She stared at the half-eaten piece for a few seconds, then laid the fork back down. Whoa. She was about trade one addiction for another. The sugar addiction wouldn’t kill her as fast as the alcohol might, but still. She pushed the plate away.

    “Anyhow, that’s what Mark says. He’s a nice guy when you get to know him.” She wiped frosting off her upper lip with a napkin. “He hates you, though. We should probably duck out before Angie and the kid gets back before they give you another concussion.”

    Ben pushed a hand back through his hair and sipped from the cup of coffee Leona had brought him earlier. A handful of guests were still lingering, helping Leona and Adam clean up. Judi had heard them agree they’d stay around until Amelia came back and opened her gifts. The mention of gifts reminded her of the stuffed bear Ben had shoved in the trunk a few miles back. They’d stopped at a toy store in town. He’d had no idea what to buy but Judi had grabbed the bear, shoved it at is his chest and declared bluntly, “Kids like stuffed things. Let’s go.”

    “Should I go get that bear out of the trunk?”

    Ben stared into the coffee cup for several moments then jerked his head up suddenly. “Huh? Oh. Yeah. That would be a good idea, I guess.” He sat back in the lounge chair he was sitting in and rubbed the back of his neck. “You know what? Let’s go get that and then let’s head out.” He looked at his watch. “It’s getting late and we’ve got a long drive back.”

    Judi wanted to go back. Evan’s suggestion they get together when she got back to Spencer was at the forefront of her mind. Still, something tugged at her conscience and she decided not to agree as quickly as she usually would have.

    “Shouldn’t we stay?” She shrugged a shoulder. “Just to see how Amelia is?”

    Ben shook his head and sipped the coffee again. “No. I think we should go. I shouldn’t be here.”

    “Sure you should. You’re her dad.”

    “Yeah, but she doesn’t know that, and I’ve never acted like a dad, so, no I shouldn’t be here. Plus, it looks like she’s got someone to be her dad anyhow.”

    He had a point. Should she tell him he had a point? She pulled her lower lip between her teeth and watched him drinking the coffee and staring blankly at the back of the house.

    Actually, both Jesus and Ellie would probably not point out to Ben that he was right about Amelia having a replacement dad. That definitely wouldn’t help his mood.

    “Well, still, it would look bad if you just left and didn’t see how she was.”

    Ben finished off the coffee. “I’m sure she’s going to be fine. It was just a bloody nose. I got them a ton when I was a kid.”

    He said the words but his dipped brow, far-off stare, and hunched shoulders told Judi he didn’t believe it.

    “Well, this party has been a bit of a bust, huh?” Adam laughed as he walked over to the table and sat next to Ben. “Angie just called, though, and Amelia seems to be doing fine. No broken bones. They’re heading home soon.”

    Ben’s muscles visibly tensed at the word “they’re.”

    Ben placed the cup on the table and rubbed a hand across his eyes. “We should be heading out too. We’ve got a long drive back.”

     “You’re welcome to stay the night,” Adam said, folding his hands in front of him as he leaned on the tabletop.  “We’ve got a pullout couch in the den and Angie can sleep in Amelia’s room tonight.”

    Ben shook his head quickly. “No. Thank you, but I need to get back and rest up. I’ve got court Monday morning.”

    Judi cleared her throat. “Actually, I could use a rest before we head out.”

    Adam’s expression brightened as if he was glad he could help somehow. “Sure. You can crash in Angie’s room. It will be a little more private than the den and I’m sure she won’t mind.”

    Ben’s expression darkened and he shot Judi a glance she knew meant he was not happy with her. It was true, though. She could use a nap before the drive back.

    Manipulating situations was a talent of her’s and she was glad to be able to use it for good this time instead of bad. Stalling their departure would give Ben another chance to see Amelia and say goodbye and maybe give her the gift they’d brought. Leaving now would only leave him on a lower note than he’d been on when he’d arrived. Maybe they could redeem the trip if he and Amelia had another chance to bond. It might make him less grumpy at work on Monday too. Judi wasn’t completely without an ulterior — and self-serving — motive.

    She followed Adam into the house. He paused in the kitchen to let Leona know Judi be laying down in Angie’s room and then led Judi up a flight of stairs leading from the dining room and down a narrow hallway with a large window at the end of it.

    Adam pushed the door open to a room on the right and as Judi looked to her left, across the hall, she noticed a closed door with a unicorn picture taped to the outside. Turning her attention to Angie’s room, she took in the sunlight pouring in streams across a queen-sized bed with a cherry wood headboard and a comforter featuring pink roses against a white background spread across it. The room even smelled of roses. Clean, tidy, and picturesque. The whole scene made Judi want to roll her eyes. She might have if Adam hadn’t been there and also hadn’t interrupted her thoughts by letting her know where the upstairs bathroom was if she needed it and asking if she’d like an extra blanket from the hall closet.

    She thanked him, declining the blanket, and when he’d left and shut the door, she tossed her purse on a chair next to an armoire, stretched her arms over her head while yawning, and looked around the room before flopping back onto the pile of pillows at the top of the bed.

    “My-my, Angie Phillipi, you sure know how to live in style.”

    She yawned again and rolled onto her side, intending to take the nap she’d said she needed. An open drawer in a desk across from the bed caught her attention briefly but she closed her eyes so she wouldn’t get up and go to look in it. She was turning over a new leaf, changing her ways. She wasn’t about to snoop in the drawers of a desk owned by a woman she barely knew.

    When she reached over and laid her phone on a book by the bed the book and the phone fell. The book must have been closer to the edge than she realized. She leaned over and picked the book up and when she did a photograph fluttered to the floor.

    “Great. Just trash Angie’s stuff, Judi,” she said to herself as she flipped the photograph over to slide it bask into the book.

    Ben and Angie’s smiling faces looked up at her from the photograph and she paused, studying it. Ben’s arm was around Angie who had her body pressed into his side. They were definitely a couple whenever the photo was taken, not only because of Angie’s intimate posture but because of Ben’s hand resting on her thigh. Judi studied the photo for a moment then opened the book to lay the photo inside. Handwritten dates and journal entries made her realize the book was actually a journal. As much as she wanted to know what, if anything, Angie had written about Ben. She was going to stick to her personal promise to not pry into the private lives of others.

    She pulled herself back into a comfortable position and closed her eyes, drifting off to sleep quicker than she normally did.

    The sound of her phone ringing woke her. She answered it without thinking and without looking at the caller ID, her eyes still closed.

    “Hey, gorgeous. I didn’t expect you to pick up when you saw my name.”

    The voice sliced a chill through her and she sat up, her eyes popping open. She swallowed hard, wanting to slide her finger over the end call button but feeling as if she were in a daze. Her arms wouldn’t move, her mouth had gone dry, and an odd roar filled her ears.

    “Speechless huh?” A sardonic laugh filtered loudly through the phone, causing her to flinch as she realized she’d bumped the speaker button.  “Yeah, well too bad you weren’t speechless when you lied to Seline about that night in my apartment.” Jeff’s cheerful timbre slid into a more mocking tone. “Funny how you didn’t mention to her how you were all over me all night in the bar and all those highballs you kicked back before you asked me to take you back to my place.”

    Judi pulled the phone back and started to hit the end call button, noticing the tremor in her hand.

    “You wanted it, Judi. You know it. I was only giving you what you wanted before you decided you weren’t going to let me have it. That’s how girls like you are. You beg for it all night long and when we finally give in, then you cry rape. That’s what sluts do, Judi. You know that right? You don’t want your family to know what a slut you are, do you?”

    She gasped as the phone was snatched from her hand. She looked up to see Ben standing above her with her phone in his hand, anger flashing in his eyes. She couldn’t figure out where he’d come from or how she hadn’t heard the bedroom door open.

    “Who is this?” he hissed at the phone.

    “Who is this?” Jeff shot back. “Judi’s new boyfriend?”

    “No. This is Judi’s lawyer, and it sounds to me like you’re trying to blackmail my client and I don’t appreciate that and neither will a judge when we — “

    Jeff spat a curse word and the line went dead.

    Judi hugged her arms around herself, suddenly aware her entire body had grown cold and she was trembling.

    “You okay?”

    She started to shake her head but changed her mind and nodded.

    He lowered his voice and she noticed out of the corner of her eye that the bedroom door was open and she could see into the room across the hall. Amelia was sitting on a pink canopy bed with a doll, brushing its hair.

    “Amelia is showing me her room but when I’m done, we need to talk about what just happened. Don’t tell me it was nothing. I don’t know who that guy was but he was threatening you. Is this related to that text you got from some Seline earlier?”

    Judi’s head jerked up and her mouth dropped open. “Wha —”

    Ben held his hand up and turned toward the doorway. “No. Don’t tell me now. Take a deep breath, calm down and we’ll talk when we get in the car.”

    “How much did you hear?”

    “Enough to know whoever that guy is he’s a piece of garbage.” He paused, his hand on the doorknob. His tone had softened. “Are you going to be okay for a few minutes?”

    Judi nodded but didn’t speak. Ben studied her for a few moments, eyes narrowing, then stepped into the hallway and closed the door. She’d been afraid to speak. If she had, the wall might have fallen, the emotion might have spilled over, and she wouldn’t have been able to put the lid back on again.

    Fiction Friday: Mercy’s Shore Chapter 11

    / Lisa R. Howeler / 4 Comments

    This is a continuing/serial story. I share a chapter a week and at the end of the story, and after I edit and rewrite, I self-publish it. To catch up with the story click HERE. To read the rest of the books in this series click HERE.

    Chapter 11

    Judi had vowed not to ask Ben any more about his daughter. Her brutal curiosity about the personal lives of others was a flaw she’d told herself she would work on when she left the city.

    After their conversation, she’d managed to get the letter typed, despite almost forgetting how to, since she hadn’t typed more than a text since her high school business class. He’d thanked her for her help and then told her she could go home early. He had a headache, he’d said.

    While she previously would have simply skipped out of the office, excited to head off to a club or a party, she found herself fighting mixed emotions. One of those emotions was depression over the fact she really had nowhere to go except back to her apartment. The other emotion was guilt. If it wasn’t for her, he wouldn’t be dealing with these reoccurring headaches, and he’d probably be able to drive to his daughter’s birthday party.

    She really hadn’t seen him coming that day on the road, but, well, she had sort of glided through the stop sign. She wouldn’t have glided if she had seen him buzzing down the road toward her, however. It wasn’t like he was completely innocent either. He had been driving much faster than he should have been.

    Standing by her car, her thumb on the unlock button on the key fob, she sighed and hesitated. Ben had been nice enough to give her a job, which though part time, had helped her not have to be at Lonny’s as often. He seemed to be going through a rough patch, and like her was trying to keep himself clean and sober.

    She didn’t want to go back to drinking and she had a feeling he didn’t either. Maybe she should make sure he was okay, lift some pressure from his shoulders a little.

    He visibly jumped from where he was standing at the filing cabinets behind her desk when she walked back in. “I thought you were heading out.”

    “I was, but I thought I should check on you.”

    Ben eyed her with what she felt was suspicion, though she couldn’t be sure since he often looked suspicious, which she imagined was because he was a lawyer.

    “Uh. Okay. Well, I’m fine.”

    “You say you’re fine, but you’ve had a lot going on. I mean, you’ve got brain damage and —”

    “Brain swelling, Judi. A concussion. Would you stop saying I have brain damage?”

    “Right. Anyhow, you’ve got that and now you can’t go to your daughter’s birthday party. and I feel like that’s my fault even though I totally didn’t see you coming that day.”

    “I’ve told you already that I’m not upset about the accident any — wait.” Ben’s brows dipped and he placed his hands on his hips. Judi wasn’t sure what that pose meant but she didn’t think it could be good. “Were you listening in to my conversation?”

    Oh. Right. She wasn’t supposed to know about the party.

    She grimaced, closing her eyes. “Well, not exactly.” She slowly opened one eye to spy on the angry expression his face was now featuring. “Okay, so here is the thing — when I transferred Mr. Phillipi, I accidentally hit the speaker button. Then I was afraid to push it back off in case it beeped, and you thought I was listening in, but then I realized I was actually listening in so I shut it off, but before I did I heard something about a party.”

    His expression relaxed slightly, but the suspicion had returned. “And you assumed it was a party for Amelia?”

    “Yeah, if Amelia is your daughter’s name.” She waited for him to respond, but he didn’t. He simply stood there looking at her as if he was waiting for her to continue. “Soooo…is it a party for her?”

    Ben folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against her desk. “It is. But as you heard, I can’t attend it because of the concussion.”

    “Right.” Judi took a deep breath and stepped toward him. “That’s why I was thinking that maybe I could drive you to the party.”

    Ben held a hand up. “Judi, no. Thank you, but no.”

    “Why not? I promise I’ll be careful and drive better than usual.”

    “It’s a four-hour drive for one thing.”

    “So? I drove all the way here from the city. I know how to drive long distances.”

    Ben sighed and shook his head as he turned toward his office. “Listen, I appreciate the offer, but I already told Adam I couldn’t make it, so it’s fine.” He shut his briefcase, picked it up, and shut the light off on his way out. “I sent him a check for her gift, so she’ll have something from me.”

    “But don’t you want to see her?”

    She knew as soon as she asked it, she shouldn’t have. Ben’s expression darkened as he walked toward the front door. “It isn’t that I don’t want to see her. It’s that Angie doesn’t want me to see her. Angie doesn’t want anything to do with me.” He pushed the door open and waited for her to walk through, then turned and locked it after she stepped out onto the sidewalk. “In fact, Angie specifically asked me not to be there.”

    “Oh.”

    She didn’t know what else to say, other than, “I’m sorry. Again. I seem to have this compulsion to ask too many questions and stick my nose way too far into other people’s business.” She shrugged her shoulders in a quick motion.

    Ben pushed a hand back through his hair and held it there for a few seconds. “I really do appreciate you wanting to help. I know you mean well.”

    Judi nodded and told him she’d see him tomorrow. In her car, she sat for a few minutes before pulling out to start the 20-minute drive home. Ben had said he didn’t want her help and maybe he didn’t, but she felt like he needed it. He needed someone to light a fire under him and get his life back in order.

    He was going to regret not getting to know his daughter. Judi wasn’t even sure she wanted a family someday, but Ben? He seemed like the kind of guy who would fit into that kind of life. What he needed was a push in the right direction and if there was anything she liked, it was pushing people around.

    ***

    Ben woke with a start. What time was it? The sun told him it was way past when he normally woke up. He fumbled for his alarm clock, squinted at it and groaned. 8:45. He should have been up an hour and a half ago. It was Judi’s day off and he should have been in to answer phones and — Wait. No. He rubbed a hand through his hair.

    It wasn’t Friday. He’d already worked through Judi’s day off.

    He fell back on the bed and squeezed his eyes shut against the sunlight. It was Saturday. He didn’t have to answer any phones, meet any clients, or even go anywhere. He pulled his feet up onto the bed and slid them under the covers, ready to go back to bed and ignore the buzz in his head from the sleep still lingering there.

    Ten minutes later, though, he was woken up again with a crisp knock on his front door. He peeked an eye open and closed it again. Whoever it was would get the message and go away when he didn’t respond.

    Two minutes later, there was another knock.

    No way. He was not climbing out of his bed. The headache he’d had the night before had faded to a dull ache, but he still felt like he could sleep for another eight hours.

    Four solid, louder knocks later, he finally crawled out of the bed and stumbled through the doorway of his bedroom, through the living room and to the front door. He propped his head against the wall next to the door and took a deep breath to try wake himself up before he opened the door.

    When he opened it he wanted to close it again, but Judi was too quick. She breezed past him with two cups of coffee in a holder and a brown paper bag.

    “Good morning!” she chirped cheerfully while he stood watching her with half open eyes.

    “Yes. It’s morning. Good? Well, it was good before you woke me up.”

    She sat the coffees and bag on the table and turned toward him. “Ooh. I thought you were a morning person. I guess not.”

    He closed the door and staggered toward the kitchen table, flopping down into a chair and resting his head on the top of the table. “What are you doing here?” He lifted his head quickly. “Not only what are you doing here, but how did you find me?”

    Judi popped the lid off her coffee and poured in creamer she pulled from the bag. She stirred it with a small stir stick. “Seriously? Burkett isn’t much bigger than Spencer. I asked around.” She sipped the coffee. “So what day is that birthday party?”

    Ben rubbed a hand across his face. “Today. Why?”

    “What time?”

    “3 p.m. Why?”

    Judi pulled a donut from the bag and bit into it. “Because deep down you want to be there and you want me to drive you.” She spoke around a mouthful of donut.

    “No. Deep down I want for you to get out of my apartment so I can go back to sleep.”

    Judi pulled the coffee from the carrier and set it down in front of him. “I’m going to drive you down to your daughter’s party.”

    “I already told you I’m not going.”

    “It’s 9:30. If you hurry up and get dressed, we can totally make it.”

    Ben took the lid off the coffee and stood. He walked to the refrigerator and reached in for a bottle of creamer. “No way. I am not going anywhere with you. You’re a horrible driver.”

    “Excuse me?” Judi scoffed, brushing donut crumbs off her hands. “I am not a horrible driver. That was a total accident, you know that.”

    “Judi.” Ben poured the creamer in the coffee and sat back down at the table. “Go home.”

    “Aren’t you going to stir that?”

    Ben propped his chin on his hand and sipped the coffee. “I’m too tired to stir.”

    Judi placed her hands on her hips. “You could have died in that accident you know.”

    He quirked an eyebrow as he looked up at her. “I don’t know about that, but the doctor did say I could be learning to walk and talk again right now.” He sat back in the chair and folded his arms across his chest. “Thanks to you.”

    “Didn’t you also say something about that doctor saying this was your second chance at life?”

    Ben reached for the donut and broke it in half. “It’s strange you can remember all the things the doctor told me when you can’t remember to bring me files that I ask for or to finish typing up letters I need to send out.”

    Judi sat at the table across from him. “Ben, you’re going to regret not getting to know your daughter.”

    Ben shoved the half of donut in his mouth and stood, walking back toward the counter. “Go home, Judi.” He reached for a cup in a cupboard by the fridge and poured himself a glass of milk. “Thanks for the coffee and donuts, but, seriously, go home.”

    “You need to go see your little girl. Don’t throw this opportunity away.”

    “Judi!” Ben turned with the glass of milk in his hand. “This isn’t any of your business. I am asking you to —

    “I want to help you, Ben. When I stopped drinking, I said I wanted to be a better person and this is one way I can be a better person. I can help you get your life back on track. My life is a disaster. I don’t have any friends left. My sister treats me like a lost puppy or one of her preschool students. My parents call me several times a day to make sure I haven’t fallen off the wagon. I’m pretty sure my sponsor thinks I’m already back on the bottle.”

    Ben held a hand up. “I’m sorry your life is so messed up, but my life is fine, and I want to leave it that way.”

    Judi huffed out an exasperated sigh. “But your life isn’t fine! You don’t have anything to do with the little girl you helped bring into the world and one day you’re going to regret it. I don’t want to live with regrets anymore. Do you?” She stood and stepped toward him. “You have a second chance to make things right, even if it is just —”

    “Angie doesn’t want me involved in her life or our daughter’s life.” Ben hated how sharp his voice came out. He knew Judi was only trying to help and she was right, he didn’t want to have anymore regrets, but still  — He softened his voice. “I can’t just force myself into a situation she’s told me she doesn’t want me involved in.” He stepped back to the table and sat down and drank the rest of the milk. “Thank you for trying to help. Really. But I need to respect Angie’s wishes.”

    Judi sat down with a heavy sigh and picked up the cup of coffee. “I thought you had some fight in you Ben Oliver.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Apparently, that’s not the case.”

    Ben wasn’t about to tell Judi that he’d already had another phone call from Adam, asking him if he would reconsider coming to the party. Luckily the call had gone to his voicemail, and he hadn’t had to tell the man, again, he wasn’t going to come.

    There had been something in Adam’s voice though. Something that made Ben think maybe he should take Judi up on her offer. A sudden thought made Ben’s stomach tighten. What if that “something” was related to Amelia. What if she was sick? Maybe Adam and Leona wanted to talk to him about that. Or what if it was Angie? Could something be wrong with Angie?

    He raked a hand through his hair and growled softly. “Fine. I’ll go.”

    Judi looked up from her coffee, startled. “Really?”

    Ben shook his head as he walked toward his bedroom. “Yes, really. I’ll take a shower, get dressed and we’ll go.”

    He couldn’t believe he was doing this and Judi’s squeal from his kitchen sent an annoyed shiver crawling up his spine. He had no idea how Angie was going to react to this visit, but he had a feeling it wasn’t going to be positive.

    Sunday Bookends (on Monday): Good music, scary or depressing movies, books about chefs and summer activities

    / Lisa R. Howeler / 7 Comments


    Welcome to Sunday Bookends where I ramble about what I’ve been reading, doing, watching, writing, and listening to.

    I didn’t finish this in time for a Sunday posting, which is why it’s being posted on Monday instead. Obviously. *wink*


    What I/we’ve Been Reading

    I have been reading but quite slowly. I was rotating between three books and I still haven’t finished one of them so this week I am going to focus on Kitchen Confidential by Anthony Bourdain and when that is finished I am going to finish The Heart of the Mountain by  Pepper Basham and then I will go back to Anne of the Island from the Anne of Green Gables series.  The Heart of the Mountain is the first book I’ve read by Basham and I am enjoying it. So far it’s not a cliché Christian fiction romance and I am grateful for that. It releases on July 1.

    A description for those who are curious about it:

    Can True Love Weather a World of Differences?

    To escape marriage, Cora Taylor runs away from her home in England to join her brother in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina, but not even her time as a nurse in the Great War prepares her for the hard landscape and even harder lives of the mountain people. With the help of Jeb McAdams, a quiet woodcarver, who carries his own battle scars, she fashions a place for herself among these unique people. But the past refuses to let go, and with dangers from within and without, can hearts bruised by war find healing within the wilds of the mountains?

    Kitchen Confidential: Adventures in the Culinary Underbelly is the book that blew Bourdain into stardom and details his journey working at the lowest levels in kitchens up to the big time. If you don’t know who Bourdain is, then you really missed out (though you didn’t miss out on his potty mouth. *wink* He was known to be a bit crass, crude, and rude at times, but he was also a brilliant writer and food connoisseur. So warning: there is swearing in this book but not constant swearing ).

     He was a chef who became famous when he traveled the world for the Travel Channel tasting and discussing food from countries all over the world, all while giving the viewers a bit of history and culture lessons during each episode.

    A description of Kitchen Confidential for the curious:

    Anthony Bourdain, host of Parts Unknown, reveals “twenty-five years of sex, drugs, bad behavior and haute cuisine” in his breakout New York Times bestseller Kitchen Confidential.

    Bourdain spares no one’s appetite when he told all about what happens behind the kitchen door. Bourdain uses the same “take-no-prisoners” attitude in his deliciously funny and shockingly delectable book, sure to delight gourmands and philistines alike. From Bourdain’s first oyster in the Gironde, to his lowly position as dishwasher in a honky tonk fish restaurant in Provincetown (where he witnesses for the first time the real delights of being a chef); from the kitchen of the Rainbow Room atop Rockefeller Center, to drug dealers in the east village, from Tokyo to Paris and back to New York again, Bourdain’s tales of the kitchen are as passionate as they are unpredictable.

    Kitchen Confidential will make your mouth water while your belly aches with laughter. You’ll beg the chef for more, please.

    Bourdain committed suicide in 2018. My family and I had been watching his show for years. When we heard the news it was like losing a friend. A foul-mouthed, jokester, who loved life so much you couldn’t believe he’d choose to end it type of friend. Many of his shows are available on a variety of streaming services and I highly recommend them. If you are sensitive to seeing animals killed or hearing course language, maybe avoid them, but neither of those items are consistently present in his earlier shows and are present more, but still not constant, on his show that ran on CNN a few years before he passed away.

    This is my first time reading a book by him. It is the first of several he wrote, including a couple novels.

    The Husband is reading Fade Away by Harlan Coben.



    What’s Been Occurring

    Little Miss has been excited to jump on our neighbor’s trampoline but has been sorely disappointed that Mom and Dad won’t jump with her. Big brother isn’t that interested either and her friends from Texas are now gone home so she had to be content with jumping for us instead of with us.

    We spent a few nights last week up the hill on the trampoline, me reading a book or watching her while she jumped.

    Our roses are still blooming which has been so exciting for me. I can’t remember if they bloomed this long last year or not and I figure we will lose most of them this week or next so I am simply enjoying them while I can.

    The Husband is on vacation this week, but we don’t have any big plans. We are going to visit a couple of local state parks and hopefully go on a train ride near us and spend time with my parents.

    Yesterday we kicked off The Husband’s week with a cookout with my parents and jumped in the pool for the first time after my son and dad worked hard to clean it out.

    What We watched/are Watching

    I watched a rerun of the K-Love Fan Awards early in the week.

    The link to the entire show can be found here:

    My favorite performances included:

    TobyMac Promised Land (made even more powerful to me since Toby lost his son to suicide two years ago)

    Phil Wickham House of the Lord (such a fun and worshipful performance. He’s fairly new to me as of this year, but I’m enjoying his music):

    CeCe Winans and Lauren Daigle, I Believe For It (two Christian powerhouse singers):

    Katy Nicole, In Jesus Name (God of Possible). This one just broke me down pretty hard for various reasons. It was the first time I heard it. Powerful stuff.

    I also loved when Matthew West won for best male vocalist of the year. You can tell he had no idea. He was floored, emotional, and he just deserved it. I love following him on social media, his music and listening to his podcast. He’s just a sweet man and we need to be praying for his heart and that he can continue to impact the world for Christ.

    This week I watched Streetcar Named Desire for the first time at the suggestion of Erin from Still Life, With Cracker Crumbs. She and I will be watching classic movies we suggest for each other this summer. I have been rubbing my hands together at this prospect because I am a huge fan of classic, or old, movies. I love picking out movies I enjoyed to share with others and I also love to receive suggestions from others.

    I will give you my impression of Streetcar on Wednesday. I suggested Double Indemnity for Erin and she will be sharing her impressions of that movie on Wednesday as well.

    Also this week I watched A Quite Place with The Boy, a movie I told him I would not watch because I hate horror-type movies. I finally caved in when Little Miss and The Husband had a day out on Saturday. It turns out this movie was different than other “horror” movies and was more of a psychological thriller. I was very impressed and enjoyed the storytelling of it. The Boy and I both feel that the movie should have stood for itself and there was no need for A Quiet Place 2 but The Boy, who has already seen that movie as well, said that he actually enjoyed A Quiet Place 2 and jumped more during that movie than the first one. I told The Boy I would watch the second movie with him sometime soon. The key for movies like these are finding a time Little Miss won’t be in the room with us. Obviously, I’m not letting her watch these types of movies with us at the tender age of seven.


    The Husband and I finished Why Didn’t They Ask Evans, which was a three-part miniseries based on an Agatha Christie book and directed by Hugh Laurie. It was very good. I would have liked some more Emma Thompson, but you can’t have everything.


    What I’m Writing

    I’ve been working some on The Shores of Mercy and hope to be more strict about carving out writing times to work on it next week.

    I shared two posts on the blog this week in addition to Chapter 8 of The Shores of Mercy (which is being called Mercy’s Shore on here):


    Now it’s your turn

    Now it’s your turn. What have you been doing, watching, reading, listening to or writing? Let me know in the comments or leave a blog post link if you also write a weekly update like this.

    How to improve dialogue and capture your readers’ attention

    / Lisa R. Howeler / 4 Comments

    This appeared first on the Hope, Hearts, and Heroes blog.

    

    For some writers, dialogue is their biggest challenge, not necessarily because they don’t know what they want their characters to say, but because they don’t know how to present that dialogue well.

    Today I thought I’d jump off a topic our own Kelly Barr touched on a couple of weeks ago on the blog when she wrote about the difference between action beats and dialogue tags.

    As a new fiction writer, I am among those writers who sometimes don’t do the best job of presenting dialogue in my stories.

    One of the traps that we new writers fall into is adding descriptive words to replace “said” after every part of dialogue. Instead of simply writing “said”, writers often try to break up that monotony by replacing “said” with terms like “exclaimed,” “declared” or “shouted.” Sometimes these replacements work, but sometimes, if read in successive dialogue exchanges, these descriptive words can be completely awkward.

    Here is an example:

    “Jenny, are you going with me to the dance?” Jack asked.

    “I don’t know! Stop asking me!” Jenny exclaimed.

    “Gosh, sorry,” Jack extolled. “I didn’t realize wanting to take my girlfriend to a dance would be so upsetting.”

    “I’m sorry,” Jenny sighed. “It’s just — I’m tired and things haven’t been great at home. My parents are fighting again.”

    Instead of writing words like asked, exclaimed, or extolled, we could instead add what are called “action beats.” Action beats are when the writer has the character who is speaking doing something before they speak, to show the reader who it is that is speaking.

    So, let’s try the above example again, by using action beats. We’re also going to take out the word “asked” because I once heard author Jerry B. Jenkins say he felt the word was unnecessary if there was a question mark already at the end of the sentence. It’s clear a question is being asked. There’s no need to reiterate that the person asked a question by writing “he/she asked.”

    Updated example:

    Jack leaned back against the row of lockers next to Jenny’s. He turned his head to look at her. “Are you going with me to the dance?” (We don’t have to add Jenny’s name since we already said he was standing next to Jenny’s locker.)

    Jenny tipped her head back and groaned, slamming her locker door closed. “I don’t know! Stop asking me!”

    “Gosh, sorry.” Jack held his hands, palms out, in front of him. “I didn’t realize wanting to take my girlfriend to a dance would be so upsetting.”

    Jenny signed, hugging her books to her chest. “Sorry. It’s just —” She closed her eyes briefly, then opened them again. “ I’m tired and things haven’t been great at home. My parents are fighting again.”

    Sometimes we writers even write “said” way too often. There is no need to write “she said,” or “he said” after every word our character speaks.

    So that it doesn’t sound as if I am slamming other new writers, I thought I’d pull some examples from my first attempts at writing fiction to show how distracting it is to write “said” after every part of dialogue and how equally distracting it is to try to come up with new superlatives to attribute a quote to a particular character.

    The following excerpt is from my first book, A Story To Tell. It’s since been revamped and re-edited, but this is how it was written before I knew more about how to write dialogue.

    “She’s too young for dances,” Daddy said, sitting in his chair, reading the local newspaper, not even looking up.

    “Well, Edith is going to be there,” Mama offered, mentioning my older sister.

    “Is this meant to comfort me?” Daddy asked.

     Edith walked into the living room in a flared blue skirt and a white blouse with the top two buttons unbuttoned. “Oh, good grief,” she said. “She’s 17, Daddy. She’s old enough for dances.”

    Daddy looked at Edith disapprovingly.

    “Is that what you’re wearing?” he asked sharply.

    “What’s wrong with it?” Edith looked down at her skirt and smoothed it with her hands.

    “It’s fine if you want to wait on a corner in the city,” Daddy mumbled under his breath.

    I knew Edith didn’t hear him, but I did.

    “It looks lovely,” Mama said quickly. “At least it’s longer than the last skirt you wore. Are you going to wear your pearls with it?”

    “Pearls aren’t in fashion right now, Mama,” Edith said.

    Later I rewrote this part and tightened up the dialogue a bit more, taking out some of the “saids” and “askeds”.

     “She’s too young for dances.”

    Daddy was sitting in his chair, his eyes focused on the paper.

    “Well, Edith is going to be there,” Mama offered.

    Daddy peered over the paper, one eyebrow crocked. “Is this meant to comfort me?”

    Edith flounced into the living room wearing a flared blue skirt and a white blouse with the top two buttons unbuttoned. “Oh, good grief. She’s 17, Daddy. She’s old enough for dances.”

    Daddy glanced at Edith disapprovingly.

    “Is that what you’re wearing?” His voice was sharp.

    “What’s wrong with it?” Edith looked down at her skirt, smoothed it with her hands.

    “It would be fine if you were standing on a corner in some city,” Daddy mumbled.

    I knew Edith didn’t hear him, but I did.

    “It looks lovely,” Mama said hastily. “At least it’s longer than the last skirt you wore. Are you going to wear your pearls with it?”

    “Pearls aren’t in fashion right now, Mama.” Edith waved her hand dismissively, shifting her attention to me. “Come on, Blanche, let’s find you a dress and see what we can do with your hair.”

    In addition to not adding too many adjectives to your dialogue tags, another way to avoid stilted dialogue is to simply take out the dialogue tags altogether. This is easy to do if you only have two people in a scene, as long as you only do it for a short exchange.

    If you have two people talking back and forth about a subject, it isn’t really necessary to keep saying “he said,” and then “she said.”

    We get it. The two people are talking to each other, so for a selection of lines, you could simply share what they are saying to each other.

    I’ll show this, using an example from my third book, The Farmer’s Daughter. First, the way I wouldn’t do it now that I know more about dialogue:


    “You have a degree in computer programing, Alex,” his dad had said over the phone in his familiar depreciating tone. “We could use you here in the IT department. And from there, maybe we can move you up into — ”

    “Thanks, Dad,” Alex said. “I’m good here.”

    “Farming?” his dad asked. “Really? This isn’t what I had in mind for you when—”

    “When you what?” Alex asked. “Abandoned Tyler and I all those years ago?”

    “That’s not what happened, Alex,” his dad said. “When you get older, you’ll understand that life isn’t always easy.”

    “Yeah, okay,” Alex said. “Listen, Dad, I have to go. Mr. Tanner needs me to clean some cow poop out of the stalls, and I’d rather do that than talk to you.”

    Now, the cleaned-up version from the book:

    “You have a degree in computer programing, Alex,” his dad had said over the phone in his familiar depreciating tone. “We could use you here in the IT department. And from there, maybe we can move you up into — ”

    “Thanks, Dad. I’m good here.”

    “Farming? Really? This isn’t what I had in mind for you when—”

    “When you what? Abandoned Tyler and I all those years ago?”

    “That’s not what happened, Alex. When you get older, you’ll understand that life isn’t always easy.”

    “Yeah, okay. Listen, Dad, I have to go. Mr. Tanner needs me to clean some cow poop out of the stalls, and I’d rather do that than talk to you.”

    Looking at this now, I’d love to clean it up even further, by changing the first sentence to: “You have a degree in computer programming, Alex.” His dad’s tone on the other end of the phone was depreciating. As usual.

    None of what I am suggesting here means I am some expert at writing dialogue or haven’t made some insanely silly blunders in my dialogue. I’m nowhere near an expert and looking back over my last two books, I can see some major errors, including how I over-explain in between dialogue and offer too many action beats.

    There is always room for improvement, no matter where you are in your writing journey so if you are doing some of what I’ve mentioned above — making what some call “writing mistakes” — it’s not the end of the world. Writing is a journey, and you can always improve whether in your next novel, novella, or short story or by editing the story you’ve already written.

    Not only can, and will you improve, but some readers aren’t as bothered by these so-called mistakes as fellow writers are. Do your best to tighten your writing, but don’t let what you think you are doing wrong, stop you from continuing to write.

    Learn more about the best way to use dialogue in the following articles:

    Fiction Friday: The Next Chapter. Chapter 3

    / Lisa R. Howeler / 3 Comments

    I almost forgot to put this up today. I haven’t had a chance to go over this chapter well, so bear with me. It will definitely change before I finish the final version of the story.

    To read the first two installments of this story go HERE.

    Chapter 3

    “Blanket, car seat, paperwork, duffle bag . . .” Molly Tanner twisted and scanned the hospital room with narrowed eyes, turned again at looked at the infant car seat on the floor at her feet. “Newborn in car seat. Check. Okay. Looks like we have everything.”

    Liz smiled at the flush of red spreading along her friend’s naturally pale complexion, a sign that she was flustered, yet trying to act like she wasn’t. Molly had been a literal Godsend from the beginning, there for Liz every step of the way, from bringing her ginger tea and lemon water at work when the morning sickness kicked in, to helping her out of bed in the morning when Liz had become too round to roll out of it herself. 

    Molly had even moved in with her six months ago, which hadn’t been a huge sacrifice considering she should have been out of her parent’s house and on her own long ago. It had at least been a small sacrifice, however. One, because Molly was still working on her family’s farm and in their farm store. Living in an apartment with Liz in town meant Molly had to drive twenty minutes around 5 a.m. each morning to help milk the cows. She also had to drive fifteen minutes from the farm store on the days she worked there. More of a sacrifice than any of that, though, was that Molly was now delayed an entire 20 minutes from seeing her boyfriend, Alex Stone, in the barn each morning.

    “I can handle not seeing him as often as I used to,” Molly had said one day when Liz had teased her. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

    Luckily, she wouldn’t be delayed in seeing him today. Alex had come with Molly to help carry Liz’s gifts and belongings to the car. He’d carried one load of gifts, flowers, and balloons to the car already.

    Liz stood and winced, every muscle in her body screaming in protest. Her labor hadn’t been as long as some, but she still felt as if she’d run a marathon two days before. “I hope you didn’t bring that truck of yours to drive us home.”

    Molly looped the duffle bag over her shoulder. “Give me a little credit. I borrowed Ellie’s car. I can’t have you trying to climb in a truck in your condition.”

    Liz sighed. “In my condition? Do I look that bad?”

    “You don’t look bad. You look tired. Rightly so. You just pushed a human being out of you.”

    Alex reached for the duffle bag as he appeared in the doorway. “I’ll take that.”

    “Liz is the one that had the baby.” Molly leaned away from him. “Not me. I can handle it.”

    “No, I’ll carry the duffle bag and that last vase of flowers and you’re going to carry the baby.”

    Liz smirked. “Shouldn’t the man carry the baby? That seat is probably the heaviest thing here.”

    She enjoyed the way Alex glanced at the sleeping newborn like she was a rabid dog. He swallowed hard. “Well, I think a woman should carry a baby. I mean, women are more gentle and . . .” He glanced at the baby seat again and shrugged a shoulder. “Maternal. 

    You know.”

    Liz laughed. “You’d be carrying her in a baby seat, not cradling her.” She folded her arms across her chest and leaned toward Alex, lowering her voice. “You do realize that birth isn’t catching, right?”

    Alex scowled, sliding the duffle bag off Molly’s shoulder and reaching for the vase. “Yes, Liz. I’m aware of that.”

    He ducked out of the room before she could harass him even more.

    Molly gently nudged her elbow into Liz’s side. “Leave him alone. I think he’s nervous he’ll hurt her somehow. He’s never been around a newborn before.”

    Liz’s chest constricted. “Neither have I, for very long anyhow.”

    Liz’s sister Tiffany had five children, but she lived several states away, so when Liz did see her nieces and nephews it was only for a few days or a few hours. Even then she barely held them. Tiffany or one of the children’s grandparents whisked them out of her arms within minutes, either wanting quality time with the children or, Liz wondered, were they afraid her recent black sheep behavior would rub off on them?

    Today, looking at the tiny bundle in the baby seat, she battled second thoughts. Maybe she should have placed this baby for adoption like she’d considered when she’d first seen the two lines on the pregnancy test. Molly’s brother, Jason, and his fiance, Ellie, couldn’t have children — or at least that’s what it was looking like. They might have adopted Isabella. They’d most likely be better parents. Ellie was more organized and definitely more maternal. Her entire career was built on educating and supporting young children. She was a teacher at the local preschool. 

    It seemed cruel to Liz that she might not be able to have children because of endometriosis. If anyone should be a mother, it was Ellie Tanner.

    “Hey. You okay?”

    She looked at Molly, wishing her best friend wasn’t as perceptive as Matt was. It was as if Molly could read her mind most days.

    “Yeah, it’s just —”

    “You’re going to be a great mom, Liz. God chose you to be Isabella’s mom. Okay?”

    Liz nodded and took a deep breath.

    Molly looped her arm under the handle of the car seat and the other under Liz’s arm. “Now come on. Your Mom and Dad are waiting at the apartment for us. They’re cooking you some lunch and your mom has ‘spruced up’ as she likes to call it.”

    Liz’s chest constricted. Her parents. They hadn’t brought her up to live the way she had been living for the last couple of years. Moving in with an emotionally abusive boyfriend, starting to drink and take pills, and then, the coup de grâce — having a baby out of wedlock.

    She grabbed Molly’s wrist. “Wait, Mol, I need to talk to you, before Alex comes back.” She looked at the doorway. “Matt was here yesterday when the nurse wanted to fill out Isabella’s birth certificate. He gave her his name as the father.”

    Molly’s eyebrows shot up and she set the seat down gently. “Why would he do that?”

    Liz pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and shook her head. “I don’t know. He said he wanted to protect us from Gabe.”

    Molly sat on the edge of the bed. “But he’s leaving for the state police academy in two months. Does he think — I mean, does he want to be her father?”

    Liz shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know what he was thinking. When I asked him, he said not to worry about it and that it was just to keep Gabe’s name from being connected to Isabella’s. Then I had to nurse Isabella, he had to get to work, and I haven’t seen him since to talk to him more about it.”

    Molly chewed on the back of her thumb, a usual move for her when she was thinking, her eyebrow furrowed. “But are you and Matt —”

    “We’re not dating.”

    “You should be.”

    Liz jerked her head up. “Excuse me?”

    Molly smirked. “Matt has been there for you almost from day one since he found out you were pregnant. Most guys would have taken off when they found out the woman they’d gone on a few dates with was pregnant by another man. They wouldn’t have picked up your groceries for you, booked you a day at the spa, or been with you when you went into labor. Which reminds me. You need to fill me in on that story sooner rather than later.”

    Alex leaned into the room. “Okay, ladies. We ready?”

    A nurse stepped past him. “No. They are not. Not until we fill out these discharge papers and Liz sits in the wheelchair outside the room so she can be pushed to the car.”

    Liz scoffed. “I’m not sitting in a wheelchair.”

    The nurse smiled and winked. “You sure are. Hospital policy.”

    Alex chuckled. “I’d be glad to push you, Liz.”

    Liz narrowed her eyes. “I’m sure you would. I think I’ll ask the nurse to push me instead to keep you from pushing me into the street.”

    Alex laughed. “What would give you that idea? Just because you interrupt me and Molly every time we have a minute alone doesn’t mean I want to get rid of you.” He looked at the car seat with a grin. “Besides, who would take care of the baby if you weren’t around?”

    Liz’s smile faded and her gaze drifted to the sleeping baby. Right. Taking care of a baby.

    How did she do that again?

    ***

    Ginny flung open the freezer door and stood in front of it, lifting her shirt, glad she was alone in the house since Stan had a late afternoon showing. As if gaining weight wasn’t enough, she had to deal with hot flashes and a hundred other aggravating side effects of perimenopause. Whatever that was. She wouldn’t even have known about perimenopause if Rena Lambert hadn’t asked her if she thought she might be in the middle of it — six years ago. 

     Good grief, she didn’t understand why menstruation didn’t just end abruptly instead of dragging women through up to ten years of hormonal upheaval like a lion leisurely dragging a pray through the Serengetti to devour. Not all women suffered the way she was, she knew that, and she despised those women for it.

    “Oh gosh, I never even had those,” Jan Ellory said with a small laugh and a wave of her hand one day at ladies’ group. “One day my period just stopped. Snap.” Jan snapped her fingers with finely manicured fingernails. “I never felt happier or lighter than I did that day. My 50s have been amazing! Weight has fallen off like butter falling of an ear of corn on a hot summer day and I have so much energy.” She emphasized the word energy with a little shake of her head and a smile. “And —” She smiled and winked. “Things have been amazing in the bedroom. It’s like David and I are newlyweds again.”

    At that moment Ginny had considered how bad it would look if she throat punched Jan during ladies group. Bad. It would look very bad. Especially right after they had discussed how to look at each season of their lives “as an opportunity to reveal God as the anchor of their souls.” 

    Yes, it would have been bad, but yet . . . it might have also felt good. 

    Ginny wasn’t sure how this season of sweat, crankiness, anxiety-induced trembling, and out-of-control emotions was an opportunity for much of anything other than to hopefully have a valid excuse when she actually did deck someone.

    She tipped her head back and let the rush of cold air spread across her chest and then sighed. She snatched a pint of chocolate ice cream from the freezer door, jerked open the silverware drawer, grabbed a spoon, and headed toward the living room to watch a Hallmark movie. Passing the mirror on the wall between the dining room and the living room she caught sight of her uncombed hair and paused. She’d fallen asleep after work, thankful the library closed early on Saturday afternoons. Her hair was sticking out in various directions, long and unkempt. Dark circles painted the skin under her eyes, and she was sure more wrinkles had etched their way into the skin along the edge of her eyes overnight.

    Dragging her hand through her hair, she sat the ice cream carton on the table under the mirror, and lifted her hair off her shoulder, propping it on top of her head. 

    She needed a haircut. Maybe she’d dye it too. She needed something — anything — different at this point. Pressing two fingers against each side of her face she lifted her cheeks and pulled them back. She tried to eliminate the pooch of skin under her chin with the movement. It wasn’t working. Maybe she should consider a facelift. She stuck her tongue out at the face in the mirror – a face she was starting not to recognize each time she looked at it — and spun herself around and toward the living room.

    “We’ve got to get rid of this stupid mirror,” she grumbled, snatching the ice cream carton up again.

    Her cellphone buzzed as she sat on the couch. She glared at it, uninterested in a conversation with anyone, but then noticed the caller ID.

    Wisconsin. She’d better answer this one.

    “Hey, Mom. How’s it going?”

    She fanned her chest with the folded-up newspaper she’d snatched from the coffee table. “Oh, just fine, hon’. How are things there? Are we having another grandbaby yet?”

    Her son Clint chuckled. “Ah, no. I think five is enough, don’t you?”

    “I don’t know. I have room in my heart for a few more.”

    “Well, maybe you can have one of your daughters provide those down the road because Tiff and I are done at this point. No, what I called about was to let you and dad know some other news. Some news I hope you will all be excited about.”

    Ginny set the ice cream carton on the coffee table and leaned forward slightly in anticipation.

    “We’re moving back to Pennsylvania.”

    Her mother senses alerted. This was either for a good or a bad reason. Why did her intuition tell her it was bad?

    “Are you? Why? What’s going on?”

    Clint hesitated. She heard it. He could deny it, but she heard the pause, the clearing of his throat, if ever so softly on the other end of the phone. 

    “Everything’s fine, Mom, but I got laid off from work last week. I didn’t want to tell you until I had something else.”

    “Laid off?”

    “Well, not exactly laid off. My job was eliminated. The industry is changing, and the economy isn’t doing great, so they had to cut back. I was the low man on the totem pole, so . . .”

    Ginny’s heart thudded with alarm. He had five children and a wife to support. “What are you going to do? Do you have a job out here?”

    “Yes, actually. A colleague put me in touch with a finance company about an hour from you actually. They offered me the job on the spot. It’s a step-down, a cut in pay, but we’ll be closer to our family, and I really think that’s something we could use right now.”

    Ginny tried not to read between the lines. Something they could use right now. Why? What did he mean? Was something else going on? She resisted the urge to pepper him with more questions.

    “Do you have somewhere to live?”

    “No. Not yet, but Tiffany’s parents have offered us a place to stay.”

    Ginny felt a tinge of jealousy that they had talked to Frank and Marge Cranmer before her, but, then again, it wasn’t like her house would hold seven more people. Two or three maybe, but not two adults and five children between the ages of a year and 10-years of age. The Cramner’s had a large two-story, five-bedroom, two-and-a-half bathroom home, despite having raised only two daughters.

    She’d often wondered why they needed all that space, but it wasn’t her business.

    “Oh. Well, okay. When does all this happen?”

    “We’ve already started packing and hired a moving company,” Clint said, screaming and giggling in the background almost drowning his voice out. “Max, Twyla. Please. That’s enough. I’m on the phone. No. Because you’ve had enough ice cream today.”

    Ginny eyed her own ice cream and hoped it wouldn’t melt before she could get back to it.

    “Sorry about that, Mom. Anyhow, I’ll give you more of a timeline when I have more information.”

    When they’d said their goodbyes and Ginny leaned back against the couch again, she tried to decide how she felt about her son’s news. She scooped a heavy helping of chocolate ice cream onto her spoon and swished it around on her tongue, staring at the turned off TV.

    She was happy her family would be living closer. 

    Yet, also nervous. She and Stan saw so little of each other already. Would more visits from the grandchildren mean even less time together?

    She scoffed. “Not like we spend any time together now.”

    Her frown tilted upward as her gaze drifted to the photographs of her grandchildren on the mantel over the fireplace. 

    It would be nice to see the children grow up in person instead of through photographs. She’d envied her friends all these years. They’d been able to hold their grandchildren, take them to the park, spoil them with sweets and send them back home to mom and dad.

     She and Stan visited Clint and Tiffany a couple of times during the year but mostly communicated with them over the phone and through video chat.

    It was time to perk up. This was good news. Having the grandchildren closer would mean she’d have something to think about other than the mundane — work and feeling like a third wheel to Stan and his job. 

    She took another bite of the chocolate ice cream, savoring it. 

    Yes, this was good news. Very good.