Tag Archive | writing books

And Then She Said. . .

Grandest is seven and a half. As you know, I cover for my daughter when she has her stuff to do. The other day, Grandest came home from school where I greeted her with hugs and kisses and she grumped her way into the house saying, “I’m starving.” I checked her lunch box and it was apparent she didn’t eat anything all day so I made pasta an two meatballs and brought the dish into the small office and sat next to her. She had the computer going with an awful program in play.

“How was your day, honey? Are there any kids you know in your class?”

Her response was this. “Grans, why don’t you sit in the living room and write your book.”

In other words, get the heck out of my way while I unwind after my second day in second grade. Too much pressure for a small kid. She ate every drop of food, called out for milk, thanked me, kissed me and sent me on my way.

I did indeed write two chapters in my new story and took a little nap after feeding three cats and going on the porch to feed to huge rescue dogs who love their Grans. When daughter returned she said, “Did you have a nice nap, Mom?”

The mixed joy of being a grandmother.whendoublebecomessingleAvailable in all eformats and Amazon and B&N paperback

                                                                                                                Grandest with friends waiting for the bus first day of school before reality sets in.

12/21/14 WEWRIWA

Winter Solstice and now we watch one minute of daylight enter our lives ’til spring. Wonderful.

Today’s post begins a WIP.No title, just a story that crept into my head when my granddaughter asked me to help with a project for first grade. “Grans, I have to interview the oldest member of our family and that’s you.” “Thanks a lot for reminding me.” And she began, holding a flashlight her equivalent of a mic, she spoke in a deep voice. “Where did you go to school when you were six, like me?” Like a bolt of lightning, I found myself in front of Volta Elementary School in Chicago, IL, thirty seven years ago. Two days later I began to write. Like all stories, new characters showed up so I ask wewriwa, our community of writers, to help me with constructive critique and maybe a title for this story.

excerpt in eight:

When the new adults -only community was just an idea, the construction company realized a little old house obstructed their plans so the board sent two affable members of the committee to buy out the property and relocate the owners. The young men drove up to the ancient house without paying attention to the carefully tended garden filled with vegetables ready to pick and flower beds of petunias, geraniums, and towering colorful gladiolas. Ignoring the straw baskets filled with red apples next to the door, Frank Randall rang the bell  confident that whoever lived in this old dump would be happy to move to a new house.
A trim elderly woman answered the door; “Whatever you’re selling, I’m not buying,” and shut the door.
“What the?” Frank raised his eyebrows, checked his notes and read, “Mrs. Celia Brown is listed as the owner, husband passed on ten years before and now we convince her to pull up stakes and move because the company will pay all expenses plus new appliances and air conditioning.”.
Again they rang the bell and again she said,“I’m busy, go bother someone else,” and started to slam the door but Max stopped her.
“Mrs. Brown,we work for the new community for adults-only and we’re ready to break ground but there’s one small problem;the company can’t break ground  because your house is built on part of the property necessary to the plans.”
“And why should I care about your problems, young man?”

for more snippets from talented writers:


Charmaine Gordon, author of She Didn't Say No, a mature romance