Still Kicking...and Baking!

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I've been remiss. Here's the latest:

Last month, I successfully completed NaNoWriMo. I have a nearly completed first draft of a promising novel titled, The Blue Hills, which I'm itching to finish and revise. My goal for this month is to complete the story arc by writing a scene a day. If I stay on pace, I should be done well before Christmas, God willing and the creek don't rise.

My story "Free" was selected for The Best of Every Day Fiction 2. This story sparked a lot of controversy on the EDF site, enough that I was selected for the EDF author of the month interview last year. Many thanks to all who loved or hated it.

Other recent highlights include online classes with Jordan Rosenfeld. I recently completed Jordan's Image Building class and recommend it highly.

Now, I look forward to settling in for some Christmas cheer and a wallop of snow. We're expecting up to a foot here in Southeastern Wisconsin over the next two days. Perfect weather for holiday baking. I host a cookie exchange at my house every year. This past weekend, I worked on candies for the party. The recipe below is my personal favorite. I make several batches every year.

Potato Chip Clusters

9 - 1 oz squares white baking chocolate (or 1 - 12 oz bag white baking chips)
2 cups crushed potato chips (measure after crushing)
1/2 cup chopped pecans

In a large microwave safe bowl, melt white chocolate. Stir in chips and pecans. Drop by tablespoonfuls onto wax paper covered sheets. Refrigerate until set. Makes about 3 dozen totally addicting candies.

At Last!

Drumroll, please...

30 Days, 30 Writes 2009 has been released for your reading enjoyment. This collection features short writing by Jane Banning, Stephen Book, JC Towler and myself.

You can pick up a free e-copy at www.30days30writes.blogspot.com. There's also a link to purchase a full-color, bound print copy, if you'd like a copy of your very own.

Please tell us what you think. We'd love to have your comment on the 30 Days blog. And keep in mind we're thinking of doing this again next year. We hope you'll consider joining us next April for 30 Days, 30 Writes, 2010. Stephen and I are already simmering a juicy batch of prompts to inspire you.

The Old Mixed Bag Bit

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It's been a bit good news / bad news here lately. On the bad front, I've had the flu since October 16th. But the good news is I'm slowly getting better. Bad news: my daughter has had it, too. Really good news: she's getting better, too.

For all our battles with congestion and fevers, the writing front has been a source of much good news. In the spirit of glass-half-full, I share my bounty with you.

GREAT NEWS: The 3o Days, 30 Writes chapbook is on the brink of being released. Stephen and I are hammering out the final details. Expect to see it available at the end of the week.

UNEXPECTED GOOD NEWS: I had an email from Every Day Fiction this morning telling me my flash fiction, "Free," was selected for their annual anthology. I was part of last year's anthology and was so pleased with how the project came out. Plus, there's nothing like an acceptance for something you didn't even know you had out there.

GOOD NEWS ON THE HORIZON: NaNoWriMo is just a few days away. Already, I feel myself getting excited about it. The last NaNo I did (2007) brought me Jamieson's Folly. I believe this year's project, The Blue Hills, has every bit as much potential. I'm not as prepared as I'd like, but NaNoWriMo is about the leap of faith. The Blue Hills has bones enough to warrant that leap.

So, mainly good news, indeed. I'm losing the Vicks Vaporub and gaining a lot of ground. I can't wait to see what else waits on the horizon. Just no more flu, I hope. I'm ready to run. Or will be when I finally stop coughing.

Same Old -- #fridayflash

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When Amanda was a baby, Carrie yearned for routine, for knowing when to wake and when to sleep. In the chaos of new motherhood, she longed for a slot to cook dinner, to exercise, to breathe, to make love.

The routine came all too soon, the daily activities that varied little from week to week: Mondays, the park; Tuesday, play at home; Wednesday, story hour; Thursday, lunch at Grandma’s; Friday, playdate. And in each of those days, their own aching subroutines, the three meals a day with the handful of tolerated menus, the same three movies, two books, one cry.

Mommy.

She returned: to her friends, her hobbies, her work, to some semblance of the girl she’d been before Amanda, but always with the understanding that everything must fit, no matter how large and unwieldy, inside the tight buckets of routine—a time to play blocks, a time to read books, and even a tiny golden sliver to remember her freedom.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story appears in the 30 Days, 30 Writes 2009 chapbook, to be released at the end of October. The chapbook features more stories by Greta Igl, as well as stories by Jane Banning, Stephen Book and JC Towler. Please check the 30 Days, 30 Writes blog for more details and an invitation to participate in next year's writing challenge.

Almost done!

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After much work, 30 Days, 30 Writes 2009 is nearly ready for publication. This anthology is a compilation of the 30 best stories written during the MySixWriMo event hosted here on this blog last April.

For those of you new to my blog, a little background:

MySixWriMo was a writing event where I posted two prompts here on my blog each day. Participating writers wrote a six (or more) sentence story based on one of them. Jane Banning, Stephen Book, and JC Towler all rose to the challenge.

After months of selecting, editing and laying the publication out, the chapbook is nearly ready. I've received much invaluable help from Stephen in creating a pdf version. We expect to launch it by the end of the month.

For more information on the project, please visit the 30 Days, 30 Writes blog. And plan to join us next April for the 2010 30 Days.

#fridayflash: Getting Ready

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Monday, it had been the flat sheet with faded yellow cabbage roses, the old one washed until it felt like flannel.

At first, Ruth thought she’d forgotten to wash it. But then she remembered how it had hung up in the wringer. She’d shut the infernal old machine off and wriggled that sheet out like a reluctant calf.

On Wednesday, she knew something was afoot. Two raggedy bath towels went missing—towels she’d washed to get ready for Trixie’s puppies. The old hound’s belly was big as a watermelon, her time coming soon. The towels had hung in the middle of the stretched lines, between Virgil’s work pants, not on the end where they’d be easily grabbed. The discriminating thievery made Ruth stop and think.

This morning, she baited the trap, hanging an old tablecloth Virgil spilled ham gravy on. Even after washing, it still smelled meaty. She sat behind the sheers overlooking the clothesline, her day’s work done, but for the dinner that needed starting. The house bore the clean stamp of settled quiet, beds long made, dishes drying in the drainboard, kids long grown.

She sat in the filtered sun and soaked in the silence. It wasn’t long before the old thief showed up, belly swaying. She waddled ponderously, back swayed from so many litters. Gray hairs grizzled her snout as she tugged the tablecloth gently from the line.

Ruth ticked the curtain aside, watched Trix drag the tablecloth off between bowed legs. Ruth’s heart twisted remembering the hard work ahead. The old girl would struggle, but she knew what to do. Soon, they’d have one last wriggling batch of velvety puppies.

#FridayFlash: Recording

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I press play and the past slides into the present, his voice light like a needle on a record. Hey sweet thing what’s it been--ten years? Then he clears his throat and laughs like I remember. I’ll be in town this weekend, yeah … something something …yeah, I’m getting married. And he jumps into chitchat about who’d have imagined, but it’s just static at the end of an old LP. My memory skips, hung up on all those nights we sat talking behind Meg’s house, the stars in multitudes like the years before us. Kids that we were, we didn’t plan. We didn’t act. We thought we had all the time in the world to find each other.