Posted in Blogging, Mi Vida Loca, nonfiction, postaday, stories, Uncategorized, writing

Ten Things That Inspire Me to Write

Today is a lazy day here. So I thought I would stay with the lazy theme and post the top ten things that inspire me to write.

We all have things or people who inspire us. Things that happen or we wish would happen. People who have amazing stories to write.

Maybe we are lucky enough to have a muse that works overtime. That inspires stories within our minds that we just need to get down for others to read. I know I have a muse that might not exactly work overtime, but puts in a good day’s worth of work everyday.


My muse does take a vacation day now and then, but for the most part is with me to work. I’m always coming across ideas or pictures that help me in my stories. Hopefully it will always be that way.

Anyway, take a look at the things that inspire me to write. Make a list of your own. Or tell me what is the #1 inspiration why you write. I’m always interested in other people.

1. People. They are such interesting creatures. I always like to watch people and make up stories about them. What’s their history? Are they happy? What will become of them? What makes them ‘tick’? What would they do in certain situations? So many questions my mind asks. I will never know the answers so I make them up. It’s fun, sometimes silly, sometimes sad, hopeful, terror filled, whatever strikes my fancy at the time. That’s what makes it so much fun, you are the boss! You can be like a giant and pluck them up and put them down in a different situation and watch what happens! More often than not I am surprised at what happens.




2. NatureI love nature and all its beauty and wonder. I love it when it’s calm, serene, wild, or putting on an awesome show. I love the calming influence that nature has on my soul. The birds, butterflies and other critters, I love to watch them all as they go about the act of living.

3. EmotionsEveryone knows that emotions always make good fodder for stories. Love, hate, terror, scorn, jealousy and anything in-between. What story isn’t fueled by some emotion? There’s such a wide spectrum to choose from that pulling from that grab bag will never be boring.

4. BeliefsOr non-beliefs. I think we all believe in something. It doesn’t have to be religious. It can be an ideal, or a way of doing something. It can be a belief in yourself, in someone else or in something else.

5. Motivation. What’s the motivation in writing a piece? There could be any number of them. What do you want the reader to take away from the story? That is your motivation! When I write sometimes the motivation is the key to my story. I want the reader to be surprised, or angry, or sad, or happy, or wondering. The story itself is secondary. I want to motivate you!


6. Memories. We all have them. Good or bad we have memories inside us. They might be recent or from when we were younger. Hopefully they are good ones, but sometimes they aren’t. No one has a perfect life. There are going to be bad memories as well as great ones. Either way they make good stories. We can embellish if we want to or just write them as we remember. I have found memories help me learn also from past mistakes. When I write a memory down as a story it helps me remember other things. It’s like using a muscle. Use it enough and you can become stronger, you can remember more and more things.

7. Pets.  Anyone that has read my blog knows I write about my pets quite often. Especially Sam, my dog. I read lots of blogs that are just about their pets, or they use their pets as the voice of the blog. I enjoy reading those blogs. Pets are always good for a story.

8. FamilyEveryone writes about family. Maybe not often but they do. It’s almost impossible to have a blog and not mention family once in a while. They are in your life as a constant, how can you NOT write about them? Some have great families, close and loving. Some, like me, not so much. But family is something you can’t get away from completely even if you try. Your memories might be full of them, your life might be full of them, your future might be full of them. A lot of times I will take certain characteristics from a family member and use it in my stories’ character. It can be deliberate, or sometimes it just seeps in unknowingly, then l I read back what I’ve written and think, “That’s just like so and so!”

9. SituationsCertain things going on in the world might make a good setting for a story. Different real world situations that inspire me to write a fictional story around. With the internet giving us instant news around the world we have infinite situations to choose from!

10. ImaginationI have to admit I have always had a very vivid imagination. Sometimes it’s so vivid I can scare myself silly. Especially at night, alone, when I hear odd noises.

source unknown
Source unknown



Posted in Blog challenge, Blogging, Mi Vida Loca, Stories of my life, writing

Weekly Writing Challenge: I Remember

Weekly Writing Challenge: I Remember


You’ll need an egg timer or at some sort of stopwatch for this challenge. Set a countdown timer for 10 minutes, choose one of the writing prompts below, and just start writing. Whatever you do, don’t stop for ten minutes. Keep your fingers typing. Write what you remember. It need not be accurate — it’s your memory. Do not judge. You got this.

  • Your earliest memory. Capture every detail. Document the quality of the memory — is it as sharp as HDTV or hazy and ethereal, enveloped in fog? Write for 10 minutes. Go.
  • Your happiest memory. Tell us the story of the happiest memory of your life. What happened? Get it all down, no detail left behind. The clock is ticking — get writing.
  • Your worst memory. Record the pain, the anger, the shame, the terror, the hurt. You’ve got ten minutes to relive it. Keep your fingers typing.
  • Freestyle memory. Write I remember at the top of your post, hit start on the timer, and write about the first memory that comes to mind. Ten minutes. Don’t stop.


I remember……

I remember being in a big house that set up on a hill. I was pretty young as I remember my younger brother being almost a baby yet. He could walk, but he was still in diapers. So I must have been around three. I remember seeing my dad only on weekends.

We lived in the country and dad worked in the city.

I remember climbing a flight of stairs to go to bed. My brother and I shared a pallet on the floor. My older sister and brother had rooms down the hall I believe. I don’t really remember that part.

I used to overhear words like, “poor”, “can’t afford it”, and “no money” a lot. I didn’t know back then that it meant my family was poor. Little kids don’t know between ‘poor’ and ‘rich’, we just enjoy our games and fight with our siblings. Our worlds are fairly small.

I remember one winter when two things happened that rocked my little world. Little did I know back then it would be the end of a childhood that could have been wonderful.

First, I remember we had a big orange tabby cat. I found that cat outside on the porch on some crates. I was supposed to get something off the porch for mom. The cat looked like it was sleeping so I went to pet it. It didn’t move, it was frozen. I cried to my mom that something was wrong with the kitty. That was my first brush with death. I remember crying over that cat for days. Even then I was an animal lover.

The second thing was an accident involving us kids. We were sledding down the hill that our house stood on.  Me and my brother were in the middle, my older brother on the back and my older sister was in the front. Now we were all pretty young. My older brother must have only been about seven, my sister five years old.

We went flying down that hill! It was so exciting! Then I remember abruptly stopping and some screams. There were lots of bright red blood on white pristine snow.

We had hit a barbed wire fence that had been slightly buried in the snow. My sister was hurt the worst as she was in front. My mom and dad ran down the hill after us kids. We were herded back to the house so my mom could see how badly my sister was hurt.

The barbed wire had cut her face and hands pretty bad. Good thing she had a big woolen scarf wrapped around her neck, I heard someone say. She never would leave her mittens on. My mom cleaned her up and put lots of iodine and bandages on her.

We didn’t go to doctors back then. We couldn’t afford it. My sister made it ok, she just wouldn’t slide down  hills anymore.

The next memory I have is moving to the city. My dad had found a home for us to live in. It was also the time my childhood stopped. It was the time that my abuse started. Yeah, at 3 or 4 years old. So I won’t go down that road of memories. Some other time, maybe.



Posted in Blog challenge, Blogging, Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, postaday, writing

Friday Fictioneers ~~ August 9, 2013

Hello and good Friday to you! Thanks for joining me for another Friday Fictioneers.


Write a one hundred word story that has a beginning, middle and an end. (No one will be ostracized for going over or under the word count.


Make every word count.

Thank you again for hosting goes out to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, she’s a great hostess.

I have to admit when I first saw the photo for this week I was stumped. I saw it on Wednesday and today I’m still stumped. I will give it a shot though as I do love a good challenge. All comments are welcome, except for downright rude ones. So please feel free to say what you feel. Other than that have fun!

Copyright -Renee Heath
Copyright -Renee Heath


Genre: General Fiction (100 words)

Hester McPherson pulled her proper green sweater closed as she stood at the crosswalk. Her proper dress and low heeled shoes were the proper attire to do errands.

She noticed the young woman, twirling and smiling wide. She grinned at Hester and exclaimed, “I got the part!”

Hester stared ahead ignoring the improper young lady.

A long-buried memory seeped inside Hester. Young Hester begging her parents to let her audition for a play. All she had dreamed was to be an actress.

“It isn’t proper!” Her parents told her.

“Congratulations my dear!”

Hester giggled improperly as she smiled at the lovely young lady.




Posted in Blog challenge, Blogging, Daily Prompt, Humor, nonfiction, postaday, writing

Daily Prompt: ( YAWN )

Daily Prompt: ( YAWN )

What bores you?



Drama bores me. Not the movie or tv kind of drama. I love a good drama on film or in a book. I mean the drama that comes from drama queens/kings. The kind that is mostly made up in someone’s head. They think they are the center of the universe and ‘things’ just happen to them! When in truth it’s either made up, or they add so much to the actual happening that it doesn’t look like it was originally. You know the kind. Yeah, you do.

I have a ‘friend’ that does that all the time! He’s so full of himself he thinks everything happens to him because, well I’m not sure why. I’ve caught him in several untruths in the past. So when he comes to me full of drama I question most of it. It becomes boring.


I find housework boring. Big YAWN on that one. I’ve done housework most of my life. When I was a kid, me and my siblings had chores to do every day. Now that I am so much older I’m bored with it all! The same old thing day after day after day…….

I might get interrupted with boring chores if my vacuum stops working. Or if the dishwasher overflows. Or the cats get in the garbage. See! Even the interruptions are boring!

no1nonna's Library
no1nonna’s Library


Chit chat bores me. You know the kind. Someone calls you or drops by and wants to just chat your ear off. Usually about nothing. I have things I want to do! But do I become rude? Or just sit dazed, my mind numb with all the useless chit-chat that is filling my brain and making it want to explode! I really try not to be rude but I have learned that with some people you just have to be to shut them up! I don’t think it registers with them that you are being rude because they come back next week and do the same thing!


There’s a saying: Only boring people get bored. I’m not sure who first said it, but it’s been around for a long time. I’m sure it was some famous rich person who could buy anything they wanted so they wouldn’t be bored. Then again maybe not. ( I googled it and it seems it is generally credited to Author Ruth Burke)


I don’t get bored much myself. I have too much to do. I write, read, paint and yes sometimes do housework. I don’t have time usually to get bored. I can always find something to entertain myself with.

But, yes, sometimes I get bored too. Do I consider myself a boring person? No, but then who really does? I might be boring as hell, I’m a poor one to judge myself. I hope I’m not but I might just well be.

Oh yawn!! Trying to figure myself out is boring.

Till next time, try not to get too bored. 🙂



Posted in Blogging, Comic ~ Sam and Me, Humor, Mi Vida Loca, nonfiction, postaday, Stories of my life

Wednesday Comics ~~ Sam and Me

We had an unwanted visitor in the house yesterday. A mouse!!

Now I love all creatures big and small, BUT, I don’t like them all in my house! Mice are not welcomed I’m afraid.

My two big cats weren’t even interested! One was napping while the other just walked away and watched all the excitement from a distance. Sam was on the hunt! And he caught it too!

I know, Eck! Right? But I was so proud of my little mouser! He is so fast when he wants to be! He was all over that mouse!

The mouse would run this way! Bam! Sam was right there! The mouse would run that way. Zip! Sam was there! I finally had to catch Sam so I could sweep the mouse up and dispose of the poor little dead body.

I’m sorry but I just can’t handle mice in the house. Now I know my little Sam is on the job! The cats??? Well, let’s just say they are hanging their heads in cat shame. (Yeah right!) Hahaha!


(c) JLPhillips 2013
(c) JLPhillips 2013


**Please click on comic for a larger view**

Posted in Blog challenge, Blogging, Daily Prompt, Fiction, postaday, Serial story, stories, writing

Daily Prompt: Everything Changes

Daily Prompt: Everything Changes

Walking down the street, you encounter a folded piece of paper on the sidewalk. You pick it up and read it and immediately, your life has changed. Describe this experience.


Emma walked slowly down the rain-sodden street. Her small hands stuffed deep within her jacket pockets. Her sneaker covered feet soaked with rain water, her blue jeans wet to the knee.

She felt none of it as she was deep within her own mind. The crisp Autumn wind whipped the ends of her tan-colored jacket around her legs. They were flapping wildly as she walked slowly in the fall storm. If someone was walking by her at this time they might have heard a deep heart-felt sigh escape her lips.

No one but Emma was out on such a wild cool day. The streets she walked were empty of other souls, rust colored leaves and Emma were the only things moving down the sidewalk. Sighing once more Emma finally lifted her dark blue eyes to see where she was at.

Using her right index finger she pushed up her glasses and looked through rain spotted lens to see where she was.  Her face registered surprise as she realized she had walked so far from home. She was in the town’s warehouse district. Large red bricked buildings stood on both sides of the quiet street.

Empty glass windows stared solemnly down at her. Lightening suddenly flashed and seconds later thunder made the ground beneath her feet shake. Emma felt her heart start to race in fright. Her sodden feet shifted quickly and she turned to head back to the safety of her small apartment.

Just as she started to take a step she noticed a folded up piece of paper on the ground in front of her. She gave a small gasp of surprise as she noticed the paper was clean and relatively dry considering the weather conditions. She hesitated and glanced left and right. Peering intently she tried to penetrate the deep shadows between the empty buildings.

Seeing nothing suspicious she stooped over and picked up the paper. She slowly unfolded it with stiff cold fingers. Her hands started to shake as she saw the first few lines scribbled on the now wet scroll.

Hunching her body over the note she read and reread her name repeatedly.

“Emma Posey”

She saw there was more writing, but she didn’t read the rest. Emma stuffed the note in her jacket pocket and almost at a run she headed for home.

Emma’s lungs felt like they were ready to burst as she turned the corner on her street. As she saw her street sign she felt relieved and a bit more safe. Turning her head for the 100th time since heading for home she scanned both sides of the street behind her. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary she breathed in a large gulp of air and started for her apartment building situated about the middle of the block.

Seeing the old familiar clapboard building that she had lived in for the past five years in front of her made her finally slow her steps. She felt safe now as she climbed the four cement steps to the front door. Taking a large key out of her pocket she opened the door and was greeted with the high-pitched yapping of  a small white dog.

“Quiet Pippa!”

Stepping out of the shadows was a tall, thin elderly man. His white hair hung a little too long, but his attire of crisp white shirt and well pressed black pants and shiny black shoes fit him well. In his thin long-fingered hand he held a soft sweet-smelling, rose-colored towel, which he handed to Emma.

“Emma dear, you’ll catch your death walking in this kind of weather!”

“Thank you Mr. Dickson for the towel.”

Emma wiped her face of rain and tried to dry her glasses on the towel. Grimacing at the sudden feel of cold damp clothes, Emma handed the towel back to Mr. Dickson.

Mr. Shay Dickson was the owner of the three-storied, 100-year-old house she was standing in. Emma rented a suite of rooms on the second floor from him. His faint Scottish accent always warmed her when she came home from work. It had become a habit for him to greet her as she walked through the big blue front door every evening.

As Emma started for the wide staircase to go up to her apartment, Mr. Dickson picked up Pippa and asked Emma why she didn’t go to work this morning. He was worried for her he said. He knew her boss was not always the most understanding of men, as they had several discussions about him in the past.

Emma hesitated as she wasn’t sure what to say. She knew Mr. Dickson only asked out of concern for her welfare. As Emma stood on the third step thinking of what she should say, she heard Mr. Dickson’s soft gentle voice once more.

“You don’t have to answer an old mans questions dear. I can see you are wet from the rain and are probably quite chilled. Go change and warm up and we’ll have a nice chat later over a good cup of tea.”

Smiling down at her sweet old friend, Emma nodded her head and went up to her apartment. Closing the door behind her Emma stood in the middle of her apartment and slowly took out the folded piece of paper from her jacket pocket.

Opening it up she once again saw her name printed on the paper. Reading further she slipped down to the floor to sit cross-legged to read the note again and again.

 ‘Emma Posey

     We need your help in an urgent matter that only you can help us with. Please meet us at 4pm on the 14th of this month at the corner of 4th street and Oak. We mean you no harm. This is a matter of life and death so please, please come!

    The Four Cousins’

Emma knew she didn’t have any cousins. In fact she had no relatives at all! So who were these “Four Cousins” and what did they want with her? Matter of life and death? Whose?

She sat on the floor for a long time, till the damp coldness of her clothes forced her to get up and change into something warm. Emma knew she was going to meet these Four Cousins on the 14th, which was this Friday! Emma also knew that somehow her life was never going to be the same again. The note changed everything, Emma felt it deep within her soul. As soon as she picked up that note from the wet ground, her life was forever changed.


As mentioned a few days ago I wanted to start a fiction Serial story. Today’s prompt set it in motion. It was the perfect set up for this story. I hope you will come back next week to see what happens with Emma, Mr. Dickson and Pippa and see who ‘The Four Cousins’ are.

Hope you enjoyed the first installment! All comments are welcomed.

Posted in Blog challenge, Blogging, Daily Prompt, nonfiction, postaday, stories

Daily Prompt: Ballerina Fireman Astronaut Movie Star

Daily Prompt: Ballerina Fireman Astronaut Movie Star

When you were 10, what did you want to be when you grew up? What are you now? Are the two connected?


I liked today’s Daily Prompt. I thought it was a good one for my 251st post. Yea me! Just over 250 posts! I never thought I would get this far, next stop 500 posts!

When I was 10 I already knew what I wanted to be. I just never told anyone, except my journal. I always kept a daily journal, did for many years. That’s where I kept my fears, worries, loves, likes, hates and dreams.


Ever since I was even younger than 10 I knew I wanted to be a writer. That has always been my secret dream. In my family dreams were kept secret, if they weren’t they were shot down pretty quickly. I was never smart enough, pretty enough, whatever enough.

I got this from my mom mostly, but also from my siblings. My dad never said too much. He was even quieter than me. I always had a suspicion that my dad  knew I wanted more out of life than to get married and have kids. He knew I had bigger dreams. Like me though, he never said anything.

I  had dreams of traveling far and wide and writing wonderful novels full of strong women who did great exciting things! I wanted to write the kind of books that made other girls dream big dreams. I wanted to write so girls and women felt powerful and in control of their lives.

I wanted to be the kind of writer that not necessarily rich, but famous in a good way. Who was looked up to. Who was admired for her ability to write.

That’s all I’ve ever wanted to be, when I was 10 or now when I’m  much older than 10. A writer.

Ah what dreams we hold when we take a pen in hand and put words down on paper. That’s how I first began to write way back then. With a pen on paper. Now it’s on the computer where I have help in spelling and grammar. After all one must be practical also. While I’m a pretty good at spelling, my grammar sometimes needs work.

image courtesy of Shakti Women
image courtesy of Shakti Women

So what am I now? Besides a whole lot older? I’m still a dreamer of dreams. A writer of words. Just not quite where I wanted to be at this age. Too many side tracks in life. Did I get married and have those kids after all? Yes and no. Yes I got married. First one was a bust with a capital B. This second one? The jury is still out on it.

As for kids, nope no kids. Couldn’t have them and truthfully, haven’t missed anything as far as I’m concerned. I have my four-legged fur babies and more than content with that. Mother material I’m not.

So here I am. No longer that dreamer of 10, but someone older with dreams still firmly attached. No matter what crap life handed out to me I held on to that dream of being a writer.

I am now trying to make that dream come true. Full steam ahead!  So I suppose in many ways the two are still firmly connected. I have held many jobs in my life, done many things, travelled some, changed a lot. But one thing has never differed.

What I wanted to be when I grew up.





Posted in Blog challenge, Blogging, Daily Prompt, Mi Vida Loca, nonfiction, postaday, Stories of my life, writing

Daily Prompt: Back to the Future

Daily Prompt: Back to the Future

Anachronism (noun): an error in chronology; a person or thing that’s chronologically out of place. Write a story in which a person or thing is out of place, or recount a time when you felt out of place.



Recount a time when I felt out-of-place? That would be a long list! A much shorter version would be to recount a time when I felt in place. I’ve always been the odd one out. In my family, in social situations, in school, in life, always just a bit out of step.

First I have always felt I was born in the wrong era. I just never fitted in. I’m not really sure what era I belong to, possibly the future. From the looks of things today, wayyyyyy into the future! Where women were not persecuted for having a mind and using it. Where women really were equal to men. Where being a woman, or being of another color made absolutely no difference in how people perceived you or held you back in whatever you wanted to do in life.

Growing up I always felt different. Never in tune with the rest of the family. I preferred to read, write, draw. Anything but socialize. I never had many friends, I was never with the ‘in’ crowd. I was always a loner. I preferred it that way. More time than not I could be found in my bedroom reading or listening to music. Alone.

Charles Louis Lucien Muller (1815 – 1892, French)
Charles Louis Lucien Muller (1815 – 1892, French)

I’m never more happy than when I’m alone. I’ve often thought I could become a hermit really easy. Just give me a room with lots of books and an  iPod with lots of my favorite music and I’m content.  Most of my socializing is over the internet. I’ve met some really great people on here. That’s enough for me.

I hate parties or anything to do with lots of people. I hate crowds, whether I know the people or they are complete strangers. Yet I love to people watch. Kind of a contradiction right? Let me sit in a corner by myself and I could people watch all day.

I often wonder what motivates people to do the stuff they do. Good or bad. Peoples minds fascinate me. People’s motivations always suspect. See, I’m a bit of a cynic too. I’ve seen a lot in this life, been through a lot in this life. I will most likely go through much more before I die. Well, I hope so anyway, as I’m not quite ready to die.

So here I sit, alone, yet not lonely. Wondering how I fit in a world that is so chaotic when all I want is peace. Yeah, I’m out-of-place and that’s just fine with me.



Posted in Blog challenge, Blogging, Mi Vida Loca, nonfiction, postaday

Weekly Photo Challenge: Foreshadow

This is done for the Weekly Photo Challenge: Foreshadow


As I stepped outside with my dog Sam, I felt the wind pick up with a bit of moisture in it.

Sam was hesitant to go out at first. I know animals feel the change in the atmosphere before we humans do.

I glanced up at the sky and saw this cloud over the house. For a small moment I was mesmerized by the vastness, color and beauty of the threatening clouds.

Then I sprinted inside to grab my camera. I just had to try to get a shot of this cloud! The beauty of it took my breath away!

(c) JLPhillips 2013
(c) JLPhillips 2013

As I clicked away I heard the rumble of thunder creeping ever closer. This cloud was the foreshadow of a wild storm that brought everything with it. Within 15 minutes we got rain, wind, thunder, lightning and hail.

The hail came down so hard that I couldn’t see across the street. The temperature dropped a good 20 degrees within seconds. It dropped so fast my windows in the house steamed up.

The cats hid and Sam stuck to my side. Who would have guessed that this beautiful piece of nature could be the start of one of the worse storms I have seen here in Canada in many years.



Posted in Blog challenge, Blogging, Daily Prompt, Mi Vida Loca, nonfiction, postaday, writing

Daily Prompt: Origin Story

Daily Prompt: Origin Story

Why did you start your blog? Is that still why you blog, or has your site gone in a different direction than you’d planned?


As most of my readers know, I have two blogs. My first blog was my food blog, Change is Good….. Right?

I started my food blog when I found out I had a wheat intolerance. So I thought of starting a blog that featured gluten-free ingredients. I was amazed at how many good recipes are out there and naturally gluten-free. I wanted to share and I wanted to start a blog. So voila! My food blog was born.

That blog has pretty much stayed the course that I set. I try to add a bit of knowledge to the blog also, so I add tidbits of information on whatever ingredient I’m blogging about. It’s fun and informative and it’s good for you! What more could one ask for?

I started this blog a month or two after my food blog. I’ve always loved to write. I kept journals when I was younger. I love words and building worlds with those words. So I felt a big pull to start a blog just for writing fiction.

It scared the living poo out of me the first time I went to click that publish button. My thoughts were ‘I enjoy writing but what makes me think anyone will enjoy reading what I write?’ I took my courage in my hands and hit that publish button. I’m so glad I didn’t chicken out!


I look back to that very first post on this blog and think, wow, I really did ok. Not great writing, but people read it and came back for more! I was so proud of myself. I like to think I’ve grown more as a writer since that first post. I love writing, making up stories, flash fiction, word play. I just love it all.

So I think I’ve pretty much stuck to what I wanted my blogs to be in the beginning. I have grown as a writer, more brave, hopefully a better writer. I’ve also grown as a person. I’m more confident and I’ve met some pretty amazing people here in this blog world. I may never meet them in person, but I like to think I’ve made some good friends.

A few of you I have grown quite fond of and hope it’s mutual. So in one way my blogs have gone in a different way than when I started. I write for friends now, not just myself.

Thank you to all of you who read my blogs. You will never know how much I appreciate you!

May light and love be yours………..

 Source: Unknown
Source: Unknown
Posted in Blog challenge, Blogging, Daily Prompt, Mi Vida Loca, nonfiction, postaday, stories, Stories of my life

It’s August and Time for a Fresh Start

Hello everyone! Hope your first day of August is going super! Mine so far is doing pretty good despite a sore hand.

I’ve given some things very serious thoughts lately.  When I saw the article from WordPress, Going Serial it seemed like an omen was sent.

Am I superstitious? Maybe just a bit in some things. Here’s the thing. If you are a regular reader of this blog you know that I haven’t been writing as regularly as usual the past few months. I apologize for that.

Seems like life was/is giving me fits lately and I got out of the habit of writing. I missed it, but I just couldn’t seem to get out of my funk. It finally reached the point where even I couldn’t hardly stand myself. I felt flat and lifeless and all around sad.


Everyone has stress in their lives and I am no exception. Oh I’m still under a boat load of stress. I’ve just decided to handle it differently.

Starting today, August 1st, I’m going to write every day this month. No more excuses, no more feeling sorry for myself. I’m going to sit my butt down and write!

I’ve been toying with the idea of a serial story for a couple of months actually. Like the old-time stories in Life magazine or like some other bloggers are doing. I think doing a serial will not only get me writing regularly again, but it will be fun!

Copyright : Denis Barbulat
Copyright : Denis Barbulat

Here’s my thoughts; To get myself writing every day I have several options. I have of course Friday Fictioneers which I love doing. That takes care of one day. I also have my Wednesday Comics, Sam and Me, which takes care of another day. That’s two days out of seven. Not too bad.

With five days left, I would take one of those days and post an original story that would fit the serial aspect. I’ve even thought  some reader participation would be fun.  Still working that one out in my head. I want to post the serial on the same day every week, so you, the reader know when it will come out.

On the other days that are left, I could do the Daily Posts, and mix it up with other original stories, fiction and non-fiction. So what do you think? Do you like the ideas or hate them? Does it sound like fun?


So the weeks would look like this:

Sunday: Daily post or other writing

Monday: Daily post or other

Tuesday: Daily post or other

Wednesday: Comic Sam and Me

Thursday: Serial story

Friday: Friday Fictioneers

Saturday: Daily post or other

Now if that schedule doesn’t get me back into the swing of things, nothing will!

Let me know what YOU think. Is there something you would like me to write about? If so let me know! I’m always open to new ideas.