Changing Seasons | Choose Joy

I love Fall, that chilly, crisp air. That lingering scent of ripe apples. Those twirling, falling russet and crimson and golden leaves.

NaNoWriMo: The Matchstick Girl

I always miss NaNoWriMo because November is a super-busy month and writing an entire book in that month is a monstrous task. However, I decided to do it this year with the understanding that I’d write daily, but not break myself to finish the book. Because, really, what’s the hurry? For the past year, I’ve…

Chapter 14: If I Could Write You

I stared down at the paper. Nothing but a blank, white surface. Like my life now, my future. I couldn’t fathom stepping into that blankness, of moving on. Of moving beyond my last moments with him. All I had left of him was this: a task to show the world the brother, the friend, the…

Chapter 12: Automaton

…And the 12th chapter: Alicia knew. The moment I walked in the door, I could tell that somehow my roommate knew everything. She’d been pacing a groove in the oak floorboards. It was her thing. Pacing. Nervous, sad, excited: pacing. She immediately pulled me into her arms. “I’m so sorry, sweetie.” I took a deep…

Chapter 11: Dandelion Fluff

As requested (by my only reader, Amy) here is a chapter I just wrote today. You should know, however, that this chick lit/suspense novel isn’t really your regular bucket of soup judging from your blog. Enjoy. Chapter 11 I floated in oblivion, a nothingness so deep and profound that it seemed to coat my entire…

Chapter 10: Counting

Just like that my world changed. I hid under my covers. Counted every breath until the sun rose: 4,615 breaths. Breaths he would never take. Breaths separating us. On breath 2,389 my little sister called. We didn’t talk, just breathed together, the phone connecting us—a tenuous connection for the tenuousness of life. And then on…

Papa

On this Father’s Day I decided to write a poem in part for the father that Adam didn’t have a chance in this life to be and in part for all the fathers in my life I know and love. As I wrote this poem, I was inspired by several father/son duos in my own…

If I Could Write You Again

It’s that time again: another Adam poem. I wrote this poem after pondering the first line in my head for several days now: “If I could write you.” It seemed a fitting thought, with all the writing I do. The best thing about being a writer is the power to control worlds and people with…

Let Me Remember

Today is Memorial Day, a day of remembrance, which covers so much territory. Therefore, this is a post in three parts, but every part hearkens back to this special day. Part 1: Primarily it’s a day to honor those men and women in the military who gave their lives for our freedoms. It’s so easy…

A Mother’s Arms

For this coming week—week three after the accident—I wrote a poem that is a tribute to both Adam and my mother. Actually, I wrote this poem a week ago on Mother’s Day, but, because of circumstances, we didn’t celebrate it until today. My mother is the very best person I know. She has all the…

You’re a Part of Me

Ever since Adam died I’ve been writing poetry. Poetry is a fickle mistress and you can’t force the words, if they don’t flow you have to wait. Which is why my poetry is sporadic at best. Free verse is even harder to come by. You have to get the rhythm right or it sounds too…