Monday, July 31, 2017

Tuesday Tales in a Box


Ahoy Fellow Fathomers! It's time for Tuesday Tales.



A group of writers gather together and give our interpretation of a specific word prompt each week. Once per month, we even write to an image.  You never know what you might encounter when you get inside our minds. This week our group writes to the word-box.  This will be an excerpt from my new WIP for a new romance contemporary, What the Storm Didn't Take.

Enjoy!~



 









My day brightened, even if I didn’t want to acknowledge it. “I’m okay, trying to eat this breakfast.”


Observing my tray, he smiled. “You’re doing a great job. I’m happy to see your appetite perking up.”


“I’m doing what I can to be a good patient.”


“It’s all we can ask.”


This wasn’t his usual schedule, hopefully he wasn’t there to deliver bad news. “It’s early in the day, what’s the morning visit about?”


“Well, I was going through some of my storage containers and found something I think you might like.”


Storage containers? What in the world was in his history I would be interested in? “You don’t say?”


Waving a little brown paper bag in my direction, he teased me with the mystery. “Yeah, I got a kick out of it.”


“Okay, I give, what’s the big surprise?” In a way, his delight brought a little happiness to my morning.


Fishing around inside for the contents, he looked between me and the sack. He held up something in his large hand, waving it around triumphantly. “Look what I found!”


Inside his long, skilled fingers he held little plastic toys. Memories of times with Conner temporarily enveloped my sadness, folding it up neatly before tucking it away. Upon further inspection of the mysterious, I saw the unmistakable brown, molded outline of a body wide mane. “No way, is that what I think it is?”


For a moment, I was transported back to my childhood days. We spent hours playing with action of figures of different sorts. However, Star Wars was our clear favorite. Our parents influenced us with the likes of George Lucas and Steven Spielberg while our friends were hooked on Power Rangers and Ninja Turtles. I acknowledged our parents all the time for their tutelage in the classics.


“How cool is this?” Conner clearly had a huge kick of delight upon bringing me this treasure.


“You still have Chewbacca. I’m impressed.”


“I kept these tucked away in a dresser drawer or something, so, they never made it to the donation box.” Handing the figure over to me, he also held up a couple more. “Look, I have Obi Wan and Yoda too.”


“Wow, we really did spend hours with these things, didn’t we?”


“Yeah, it was awesome. I credit those hours with building my imagination. We were never bored were we?”


“No, I can say we weren’t. Plus, I was the only girl so I didn’t have to fight with anyone else about being Princess Leia.”


“That’s right, probably the most important part. You had no competition.”










Please visit us at our main site for more interpretations of box  Tuesday Tales Main Page

Tuesday, June 13, 2017

Tuesday Tales Like a Stone


Ahoy Fellow Fathomers! It's time for Tuesday Tales.



A group of writers gather together and give our interpretation of a specific word prompt each week. Once per month, we even write to an image.  You never know what you might encounter when you get inside our minds. This week our group writes to the word-stone This will be an excerpt from my new WIP for a new romance contemporary, What the Storm Didn't Take.

Enjoy!~



 


“When are you moving?”


Now, he took on a truly perplexed expression. “Moving? What are you talking about?”


He answered a question with a question. I tripped him up. “Sheila wanted to move back East. You’ve now been here for over six months, in Dallas I mean. Surely, your rotation has been long overdue. Isn’t she chomping at the bit for you to move?”


“It’s…complicated. I don’t have any answers for you right now. I’m here for your project idea, can we focus on that?”


I didn’t think so. Sheila was suddenly the large elephant in the room, disguised in a beautiful feminine form. “I haven’t talked with you about your life, your wedding, your job. I’ve monopolized our relationship with my needs. I’ve been selfish, actually.”


Pushing his empty plate away, Conner rubbed his hand over his face- his tell. “It’s not selfish. Rachel, you’ve had so much happen in this past year. You’ve endured more struggles that some people double your age. We needed to help you get into a good place.”


Oh, I understood. I was a distraction. Not in a bad way, but, I was his distraction. He could help me and put his own personal life on the back burner. “You didn’t want to move to the East Coast, did you?”


Closing his eyes, and tilting his head back, Conner released the biggest sigh ever. He didn’t sigh very often, only when he seemed frustrated or couldn’t control a situation. “No, I didn’t. My home is with my mom and…here, in Oklahoma. I had to move once. I got the chance to come back, so, I didn’t want to blow it.”


“What does that mean about Sheila?” Wait a minute, I didn’t want to know. This conversation was taking the darkened fork in the road. The place I avoided. “Never mind, let’s get back to why you’re here.”


Why was he here?


I mean really why was he here?


Finally smiling, he appeared as relieved as I felt. We needed to get away from such personal conversation. “Yes, let’s get back to the priority. If I’m digging holes, I need time to get it done. I’ve got to get back to work Monday you know.”


He meant temporary rotation. He didn’t move to Dallas permanently. He wasn’t on a stepping stone to move back here. He had his own life to live.


I think talking about Garrett was easier than talking with Conner about his personal life.


That’s messed up.







Please visit us at our main site for more interpretations of stone  Tuesday Tales Main Page

Monday, May 22, 2017

Tuesday Tales and a Staple

Ahoy Fellow Fathomers! It's time for Tuesday Tales.



A group of writers gather together and give our interpretation of a specific word prompt each week. Once per month, we even write to an image.  You never know what you might encounter when you get inside our minds. This week our group writes to the word-staple This will be an excerpt from my new WIP for a new romance contemporary, What the Storm Didn't Take.

Enjoy!~



 
At least I wouldn’t interfere from home. I was on a different playing level when the hospital discharged me. Now, I was on Sheila’s turf and was best not to infringe. I certainly didn’t want to give the wrong impression. But, I really missed him. I wondered how life was in Dallas for his clinical assignment.
Who was I kidding? I wanted to know how he handled the long-distance relationship with Sheila. Was it working out? Was he preparing to make the final move out East?
It wasn’t any of my business.
My heart ached for Garrett in moments like this. After we became engaged, I recalled how we planned for our future. We had many dreams too. We lived a few of those- our romantic honeymoon, our wonderful home, getting pregnant with Ryan…yes, we lived many dreams. I envied Sheila, and I needed to get over it.
I wandered into the living room to escape my thoughts and condemned longings. Mom watched the news channel incessantly, as if life could change in the blink of an eye. In our case, we knew it could. Clicking off the television, she apparently noticed my skulking. “Hello dear, how are you and Mr. Ryan today?”
I must admit, she left me alone, giving me the privacy she knew I desired.

“We’re fine. He’s getting a fat little tummy- like a bullfrog.” I handed him over to his impatiently waiting nana.

“Oh, how are you today, my beautiful Ryan. Ignore your momma, you’re not fat, you’re perfect.” Whispering gently into his little ear, being a grandmother more than obviously suited her.

“Mom, I need to think about what I’m going to do with the house. You know, catch up on the business end of life. I’ve avoided it for far too long.”

“Oh, honey, there’s no hurry. You deserve a few weeks with this little distraction before you jump into reality. Believe me, it’s not going anywhere, it’ll be there when you’re ready.”

“But, that’s the thing, I’m ready. I can’t ignore my life. I’m an adult.”

Mom carefully studied my expression, as if she really was seeing me- the grown-up me. “Sweetie, you’ve been through so much more than some people twice your age have dealt with. I’m so proud of you for how you take each day. I know it’s not easy.” Cocking her head to the side, she elaborated. “Saying it’s not easy is a dramatic understatement. I’m not sure I have the words to describe how I’ve observed your life the past several months.”

“I appreciate you, mom. I still cry, and I’m not sure I’ll ever get over Garrett. I’m so sad he isn’t here to hold Ryan, actually be part of the little person we created together. But, when I want to melt down, I look at Ryan and he’s the same reason keeping me sane and even a semblance of solid. He’s worth so much more than me crawling under a rock and forgetting I have a life.”


Please visit us at our main site for more interpretations of staple  Tuesday Tales Main Page

Tuesday, May 9, 2017

Tueday Tales and Tribute to Mother


Ahoy Fellow Fathomers! It's time for Tuesday Tales.



A group of writers gather together and give our interpretation of a specific word prompt each week. Once per month, we even write to an image.  You never know what you might encounter when you get inside our minds. This week our group writes to the word-mother.  This will be an excerpt from my new WIP for a new romance contemporary, What the Storm Didn't Take.

Enjoy!~








My mother only wanted to help. However, I needed to read this one in private.
May is an incredible month every year not just because it's Mother's Day but it's your birthday and I know that I complain every year about what to get you and not knowing what to buy because you seem to have everything but the truth is I've always enjoyed thinking about what I can give you that would be as unique and special as you are thankfully no matter what I do you never complain you never returned it and you've always acted like it was the best thing that you never received I'm sorry I won't be able to buy you more birthday presents I mean truth is if I'm not there I can't do any shopping I hope you left that at least smiled a little bit but every year I want you to get yourself a dozen Gerbera daisies because you know I'll get you those in addition to anything else every year when you buy that bouquet of flowers I want you to know that I'm right there at that moment smiling handing them to you when you fall in love again and I hope that you will no matter what he does for your birthday I still want you to buy yourself that bouquet of flowers every year because you're worth it and you need to remember just how important it is to smell the flowers and take time for the small things sometimes in life the big things over shadow the most important tiny fractions of life.
You're going to be a mom and as I write this I don't know when exactly that will be but I know but the love and your heart is too large to keep all to yourself that's how I know you're going to become someone's mother someday and when that child understands what Mother's Day is about it's as if he already knew because everyday would be Mother's Day because of how special you are.
Happy birthday honey and Happy Mother's Day for every year you celebrate.






Please visit us at our main site for more interpretations of mother  Tuesday Tales Main Page



Tuesday, May 2, 2017

Tuesday Tales and a Good Cry, (is there such a thing)


Ahoy Fellow Fathomers! It's time for Tuesday Tales.



A group of writers gather together and give our interpretation of a specific word prompt each week. Once per month, we even write to an image.  You never know what you might encounter when you get inside our minds. This week our group writes to the word- cry This will be an excerpt from my new WIP for a new romance contemporary, What the Storm Didn't Take.

Enjoy!~












Mom carefully studied my expression, as if she really was seeing me- the grown-up me. “Sweetie, you’ve been through so much more than some people twice your age have dealt with. I’m so proud of you for how you take each day. I know it’s not easy.” Cocking her head to the side, she elaborated. “Saying it’s not easy is a dramatic understatement. I’m not sure I have the words to describe how I’ve observed your life the past several months.”



“I appreciate you, mom. I still cry, and I’m not sure I’ll ever get over Garrett. I’m so sad he isn’t here to hold Ryan, actually be part of the little person we created together. But, when I want to melt down, I look at Ryan and he’s the same reason keeping me sane and even a semblance of solid. He’s worth so much more than me crawling under a rock and forgetting I have a life.”
I just wanted one full day when I didn’t cry.

“That’s my girl.” Rocking Ryan, she cooed slightly toward his curious expression. He watched her with such intensity. I wished I knew what he was thinking. She turned toward me and sighed. “You have a letter from an attorney among all the other mail redirected here for you. I went through anything not immediately pressing and handled things such as the final utility bills and that sort of thing.”


“Thank you, I didn’t even think of all that.”


“No worries, it’s done.” Getting up slowly, she cradled Ryan closely into her arms. From a roll top desk, she pointed toward a stack of letters and other mail. “On top here is the letter from the attorney’s office. Everything underneath is yours too.”


“Why would we get a letter from an attorney? We didn’t have any legal business pending.” Immediately, I needed to know. Ignoring the other mail, I grabbed the letter and took it to the couch. Sitting down, I prepared myself to open it. If mom had any prior knowledge about this, she wasn’t speaking up.


Carefully sliding the envelope open, I found one single sheet inside. The simple note expressed condolences before requesting I make an appointment to see the local lawyer. Waving the page around in the air, I was dumbfounded. “The attorney wants me to come in to his office. Do you have any clue about this?”


“I don’t, but, I’ll go with you.”


I made an appointment for the following morning.

Please visit us at our main site for more interpretations of cry  Tuesday Tales Main Page




Monday, April 24, 2017

Tuesday Tales and What About Life


Ahoy Fellow Fathomers! It's time for Tuesday Tales.



A group of writers gather together and give our interpretation of a specific word prompt each week. Once per month, we even write to an image.  You never know what you might encounter when you get inside our minds. This week our group writes to the word- life This will be an excerpt from my new WIP for a new romance contemporary, What the Storm Didn't Take.

Enjoy!~








“I’m embarrassed even admitting to you I don’t see mom enough.”


“We all let life get in the way. I’m not judging you, only offering a small reminder.” I saw my husband every day before he died. I was always thankful I took a local job close to home that didn’t monopolize my day the way some careers would have.
Standing, he placed the little plastic characters on my table. “I’m gonna leave these with you. I thought they might bring a little smile, if anything. I’ve got my normal rounds, but, I’ll check in this evening, okay?”
My broken heart accepted the small comfort from his gesture. In a world full of pain, I’d take any brightness. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”
He gave a small nod as he walked out the door.
I finished my breakfast, spurred on by the unexpected gift. Although hitting my stomach like a brick, my body didn’t threaten to eject the nourishment. Memories gathered, pushing their way to my recognition. It’s funny how I never thought before about every little detail of things we’d done before.  I thought of Garrett and our last shopping trip to the toy store. He couldn’t stop talking about all the cool toys, sports gear, and such he was going to buy.
“I don’t care if I gotta work three jobs, this kid’s gonna be spoiled.”
“Now, now, this kid needs you more than possessions.”
“Aww, you know what I mean. I wasn’t serious.”
For some reason, I knew he wasn’t serious, but, he was close. He’d give this kid the world if he had the funds. I teased him about the boy versus girl scenario. “Will you really spend as much money on dolls as baseball gloves.”
“There’s always softball gloves for girls, you know?” Winking, he covered his bases, so to speak.
I knew he’d buy girl toys just as easily as ones for a boy. He was just excited to return to his own childhood days and how much fun he had growing up. That day we’d purchased two small ball gloves- one for baseball and one for softball. He’d shown no preference. We got them home and he rubbed linseed oil on them carefully.
I wondered about the urgent urgency aloud. “This baby won’t be ready to play ball for a few years, dad. Aren’t you getting ahead of the game here?”
“I’m gonna rub luck into these things as often as I can. Our ball player will have the best advantage of any kid out on that field.” Lovingly, he rubbed success into the leather.
All I did was shake my head and walk away laughing at the fanaticism he showed in the superstition. “Okay, dad.”


Please visit us at our main site for more interpretations of life  Tuesday Tales Main Page





Wednesday, April 12, 2017

Review 13 REASONS WHY - Was Suicide Her Only Option?


If you or someone you love has thoughts of suicide, depression, or helplessness, please let someone know. someone cares, they really do, I know because I care about you, I don't have to know you to understand your value. I'm in Texas, but, there is a nationwide hotline you can start with Suicide Lifeline. there is another way, let someone help you explore your options. hugs 1-800-273-8255
Review
 
 





PLEASE NOTE: this contains spoilers of the Netflix series, 13 Reasons Why based upon the novel of the same name by Jay Asher.

It’s hard for me to put into words how this series made me feel. I raised two boys who are now in their twenties, but, still have my 17 year old daughter at home. My sons really didn’t experience bullying. However, my daughter is another story. Even though she’d been at the same school since late Kindergarten, she was anointed an outcast. Some of the things that happened made me so angry, I remember once jumping out of my car and screaming at one boy involved in one incident. I didn’t give a shit if his parents saw me or not. Through many years and many tears, she grew older. Her sophomore year, a popular kid asked her to homecoming dance. She found out a few days later it was only a joke…yes, A JOKE. Somehow, he thought it was funny to ask her and then take it back. #totaldouche

We switched schools because I moved to a new town and although reticent at first, she’s happier here. She’s a junior in high school this year, and feeling more at ease in this new school environment. I must admit her trust levels remain extremely guarded because of everything she experienced. The early episodes of 13 made me occasionally cringe, and actually stop watching, because it vaguely reminded me of what she went through. However, I’d start again, anxious to see how the story ended for the other characters involved. I mean, would ANY of them adopt some moral code and somber acceptance of how they contributed to someone else’s demise?

I immediately felt protective of Hannah Baker, and wished this would end differently. I wanted to let her know those horrible times would eventually be nothing more than a bad memory, and she would find happier days. But, this series was not geared toward saving her, we know she will eventually die by her own hand.

I got extremely frustrated at how many times Clay Jensen stopped listening to the tapes and demand his friend, Tony, tell him what happened. JUST LISTEN! I wanted to scream at him. I felt like I was held hostage in DFW traffic, road rage translated to viewer rage. Later, when I really thought about his hesitance, I was reminded of someone I know. This person would drag their feet, hide, or whatever it took to avoid anything unpleasant- news, family, change, etc. I could never understand it. I’m the type to face it head on, dive in, get it OVER with. Realizing not everyone is like me, I took a step back and accepted Clay had to listen in his own time, stopping at his own required intervals.

I absolutely don’t understand why eventually Tony answers, “yes”, when Clay asks him for the hundredth time if he was actually the ONE that killed Hannah. When I watched the next episode, yes, I see where Clay and Hannah have an argument, but, nothing says it was all Clay’s fault. In fact, Hannah is raped after her argument with Clay, and she visits a very unhelpful Mr. Porter. When Tony answered that question in the affirmative, I believe he misled Clay, causing cruel stress. Hannah does reveal Clay is in those tapes, but, she also explains Clay doesn’t really fit in with those tyrants.

During the story, I had to admit I kept wondering how this girl, Hannah, ended up in the middle of some crappy and messed up situations. For some reason, bad luck followed her like she’d broken mirrors for months straight. It wasn’t always because she made bad choices, she honestly tried to help folks sometimes. She kept returning to the same crew who jilted her, used her, and disregarded her. This is how strong the will to be liked can be for an outsider. Popular folks won’t understand the daily struggle to be heard, noticed, or simply acknowledged. The unseen become a fire extinguisher on the wall- always there, yet, always ignored.

I have complaints about what I consider “plot holes”. For instance, when Marcus plants marijuana in Clay’s backpack, the school administration assumes it’s Clay’s personal stash for obvious reasons. But, why didn’t he demand fingerprints on the bag, or a drug test to prove his innocence. His mother is an attorney, and she didn’t demand this? I’m at a loss on this one.

Hannah is smart, and savvy, coming to some serious conclusions along her horribly rocky road. She understands these people, and their desire to hide their secrets. So, I ask this question, in the end, how come she stayed in the hot tub alone with Bryce, the rapist she so dreads? Why in the hell would she actually do that? When the scriptwriters left her in the hot tub, they greatly diminished their protagonists’ credibility.

I dislike how the “villains” of this story seem to get away with all their evil doings- Especially Bryce. This whole troupe gets away scot free without concern. Even when Sherri calls 911 to report her involvement with the stop sign, we don’t actually see what she faces as a result. Further, when Jeff died as a result of the missing stop sign, wouldn’t the coroner have done a blood alcohol test as part of the autopsy? If Jeff wasn’t intoxicated, as Clay defends, the blood test would clear him as not being a drunk driver. Jeff’s parents should’ve demanded such tests and explanations.

The series spent so much time building up what all of these bullies did- how come we, the viewers, don’t receive the satisfaction of at least some received consequence? The reality is, some of them will get away with everything but, hopefully, some would receive a wakeup call to their conscience. But, damn, some of these folks deserve some serious repercussions. We spend the entire 13 episodes watching these kids rip Hannah apart, and then….nothing.

Even at the end, Jessica was more angry at her boyfriend, Justin, than Bryce. I get it…I really do. The guy proclaiming to love you and supposedly protect you lets some monster rape you. But, where is the anger toward Bryce? Again, I see the whole crew protecting this rapist instead of throwing him off the island.

Hannah’s parents receive the audio files at long last, and we get nothing about their response? We follow every heartbreaking step they make, why do we not see how this file affects them? Although certainly not bringing her back, will they confront Mr. Porter, the counselor, who had a final chance to show Hannah life was worth living? What is the outcome for Mr. Porter? Will he continue to believe he had NO idea she was contemplating suicide? Or, will the administration keep protecting him and the popular assholes who run the school?

I appreciate the tragic, painstaking scene showing Hannah actually taking the razor blade to her wrists. I had to turn away and couldn’t watch the entire act. Suicide is not glamorous, and shouldn’t be made to appear like some glittery trip into the twilight. Suicide is also final, a fact not always really grasped by young people. Adolescents sometimes want their act of self-harm to truly be their cry for help, and they don’t necessarily mean to die, like for real. Death in movies makes it seem there can be a do-over, a chance to get it right. But, when someone engages in an act to end their life, it just might END their life, not be a desire for help. Those pills, rope, blades, or a gun can- and will- bring mortal harm to a human body. I don’t mean this as throwing shade on a young person’s understanding, I want this to be made crystal clear.

Finally, we have Alex the gunshot “victim”. Did he pull the trigger himself, or who actually committed the deed? How does this even fit into the story? Each of the first 12 episodes invested much time in developing the characters, their behaviors, the interactions…I felt like episode 13 threw everything together and ended abruptly without sufficient explanation for the huge storylines created.

Where did Hannah mail the other set of tapes??
Why did she pick Tony to pass the tapes??

What gives?

I want to read the book, as a comparison between the two.

I’m giving this one **** 4 snowflakes.