Monday Morning Post: Mash-Up Edition

Finished another short story yesterday. It's called The Loft, and I'm hoping it'll be included in an anthology of horror stories. Never tried to write a scary story before, and I have no sense of how successful I was this time. It's good to stretch, though.
                                                                       (Burnsie the dog discovers his passion for gardening.)
So spending yesterday wrestling with the laptop has me inclined towards blogs with a writing theme for today's mash-up. First, you should check out Sara W. Foster's post
Married To Her Father's Foe. It's a true story from the American Revolution, and I gotta think there's a historical fiction writer out there who'll be truly inspired by it.

Next, you should check out this post by A. Victoria Mixon: 3 Things To Know About Exposition & Telling. Victoria's an editor, writer, and blogger, and I love her posts because she's so smart and she says such intelligent things about writing. This post examines how the contemporary fascination with exposition is effecting what gets published, and in a later post she looks at some of the reasons why. Both of them are worth checking out.

Triberr introduced me to Melodie Wright, who blogs at Forever Rewriting. She's been involved in the A to Z Challenge - blogging on a different letter of the alphabet every day of the month of April, and you should look at her post K is for: keeping faith.  It includes a Vlog interview with NYT bestselling author Beth Revis and it's the most encouraging piece about failure you'll ever see.

This next one isn't exactly writing-related, but Julie Farrar wrote a thought-provoking piece about the Ashley Judd controversy in Who's the Worst Enemy of Women Julie's post contains a link to the essay Ms. Judd wrote about how women get unfairly judged by their appearance at every turn. Given that I'm turning 50 later this week, the whole kerfufle is really resonating, and Julie does a good job of expanding on the points Ms Judd makes.

Then, for something completely different, take a look at Ann Cory's Bawdy Talk - Sweet Saturday Sample . Her snippet's a tease, and I loved it. Her A to Z Challenge posts all show pics of dreamy vacation spots, and I liked this week's Six Sentence Sunday post, too, but it was a little too naughty for my PG rating. You can go there if you like. I won't tell...

;)

Peace,

Liv

The Octopus Knows - Round Robin #2

So this is a rare Thursday post. Actually, it's part of a series of posts, a round-robin of storytelling that would make the most hard-core pantser proud. I'm one of a group of bloggers telling the story of, well, I'm not entirely sure what. You can check out the first installment on Laird Sapir's blog. She'll also be collating the installments as they come in, so eventually it will be possible to read the whole thing in one play. But where's the fun in that? Follow along as we go....wherever it is we're going.

;)

Liv

The Octopus Knows #2

He reached into the closet and fingered the heavy zippered garment bag. The white suit. The one with the sparkly lapels. Perfect.

Though upon his arrival, he saw that the outfit wasn't perfect at all. Marguerite was dressed to fade away, wrapped in a worn trench coat with her brilliant ginger hair obscured by a heavy  taupe scarf. She sat shrunken in the corner booth, a half-empty glass of water the only indication the waitstaff at La Boulangerie had paid any attention to her.

And the damned white leather pants were so tight Simon could barely breath. A year spent living off of Pringles and cognac was having its revenge.

 "Well isn't that just a cat pageant." Her eyes shredded his suit, though her voice barely made it past the edge of the table.

"Darling Marguerite, it's so good to see.."

She cut him off before he could finish. "Sit your prissy butt down. I feel like hell and your jacket looks like it was attacked by fireflies."

He slumped into the other side of the booth, discretely flipping open the top button of his pants. As soon as he could, he took a deep breath. "Alright then, we'll play it your way."

A waiter appeared, the high ruffled collar of his shirt holding his chin like a cup. His eyes were narrow and black and his beard was trimmed in a sharply pointed goatee.

"Hi. I'm Braden, and I'll be your server today."  The waiter set a wine glass in front of Simon.

"I'd like a Coke."

Marguerite groaned. "I thought you'd given that up."

"Mr. Jones wants the octopus back." The waiter picked up the wineglass and turned to go. Simon stared at Marguerite, unsure he had heard the words correctly despite the man's pristine diction. She had covered her mouth with one hand, as if to hold in words she shouldn't say. Simon didn't breath until the waiter was out of sight.

"So that's what this is about." Simon popped open the second button. He wasn't sure he'd be able to get them done up again before standing. Maybe Marguerite would lend him her coat. Losing his pants in a restaurant was sure to draw unwanted attention.

 

I hope this has intrigued you. Look up Laird's post, and then in a few days installment #3 will be available on the blog of the wonderful Jennifer Oliver. Thanks for playing along!