A Book Needs a Cover – #NaNoWriMo

So I’ve had the title of my book in my head for the last year or so.

I had a little time – and I didn’t feel like writing, so I came up with this little mock cover for Worthy of a Name, the story I’m working on during this year’s NaNoWriMo.

I had created another one, but it felt too young and my main character is going to be in her mid-twenties, making my original design too immature.

Anyhow, I hope to write up a brief synopsis in the next day or two, giving my lovely readers a glimpse into my work in progress.

Until next time,



And on second thought… The beauty of changing your mind.

Since I began mapping out my NaNo story last weekend, I’ve had some time to reflect.   During the random downtime I’ve had this week, I’ve decided to change the time frame for my planned story.  Originally I had the main character move through adolescence and into adulthood to form the plot of the story.

This time frame has been on my mind all along.  I have tiny scraps of paper in my notebook and lots of random notes written down working the plot out using this as a main focal point of my story.

Then I got to thinking, perhaps I’m stretching my MC and my reader’s attention span a little too thin.

So the light bulb went off and I’m now starting from scratch and tightening up the story.

I guess what I’m really trying to get at, is that don’t be so attached to your original plan that you can’t discover a better way of doing something.  I’m still working things out and of course, this plan will probably go through about 1,340 changes by the time it gets done, but knowing you CAN do better and that your story can BE  better because of the change makes all the difference.

So I’m doing my best to be flexible and adaptable.

Until next time,


Listen with your Heart – Daily Picsperation Post

Here’s my post from last Thursday’s Daily Picsperation blog.


Prompts I used:

Listen With Your Heart 


Many people say it transcends language and culture. Bringing people together as a healing expression of humanity. It allows you to feel and communicate without understanding the words. Meaning comprehended through sound, sculpted between notes and tempo all creating a harmonious release that can soothe even the most savage of souls.

I never understood it until I met Marisol. She was like a ray of sunshine brought from the heavens to lighten up the darkness of my life. Even though we spoke different languages, we somehow managed using gestures, pointing and speaking slowly.

Today, Marisol had been frantically trying to explain something to me. After ten minutes of her arms waving between us, and saying the words in Spanish she longed for me to understand, I was still baffled. She knew I was going to have to go back to the States soon, and my heart was breaking over the mere thought of it. We laid together silently in frustration when she sat up suddenly and thrust her earbuds at me, urging me to listen to a song she had put on her mp3 player. Putting them in, I heard a soulful song, brimming with emotion. That was when I finally began to comprehend all she was trying to convey. I was once again amazed at her ingenuity and intelligence, because It had never occurred to me to try music to speak for me instead.

When the song was over, I pulled her against my chest and smiled warmly down at her and replied in kind.

“I love you too.”

NaNoWriMo – A change in perspective

I didn’t think I was going to try and do NaNo this year. I figured I was too busy and (like many other humble writers), I think all my writing is crap.   I thought about doing it last year, but with working full time, being a mother, wife – I didn’t make time to do it.  (Please note, I am a gemini, so follow through is not my best skill)

But for some reason I changed my mind.  (Nothing like changing your mind two weeks before it starts, right?)

I’ve started outlining the story I’ve had in my head for a year or so now.  I still have lots to do and to work out, plot wise, but I’m excited to try.

So I hope you will all follow my journey this next month as I attempt to hit my daily writing targets & who knows, even get a book written after all is said and done.


Stick with me baby, and hang on for what just might be a wild (and incredibly insane) journey.



Writing on the Wall – Daily Picsperation Post

Here is my daily picsperation post from Thursday.

Writing on the Wall

“I told you it would work,” she said, grinning wildly as we walked down the path.

I squeezed her hand twice to let her know I agreed with her brilliance but was unwilling to share that verbally. She was already mocking me for my lack of faith, and I knew I’d never hear the end of it if I told her she was right.

When we finally approached the wall leading up to the library, I was shocked to see it covered with graffiti that hadn’t been there the day before.

“See,” she exclaimed, pointing to the wall and smirking at all the running tally of people’s favorite books of the summer. “Now are you going to do something about the lack of funding for the library? I told you people still read books. That other people care about the library just as much as your bookworm daughter,” she mocked.

While I appreciated her effort to bring some attention to our dilapidated library, what my intelligent and sassy daughter didn’t know was that I’d already made a substantial donation when we were here yesterday. If she was championing such a worthy cause, the least I could do was support her. My late wife and I had raised our daughter to be strong, independent, intelligent and to stand up for what she believed in, and I could only do my best to continue those preachings.

After she’d admired her handiwork in getting so many people to tag the wall, I asked her to come inside with me. When I’d written the check yesterday during their fundraiser, I’d been able to fill out a cardstock book cut-out with who the donation was made by. I knew they’d placed it up on the wall with the other donors, except instead of putting my name on it, I’d written a special message.

“Hope you brought your checkbook, Daddy-o,” Abby’s sing-song voice rang out as she skipped past me.

Smiling my response, I followed behind as she ran up the stairs. Watching her now, I reflected on how much I loved her spirit and determination. She reminded me of her mother more and more every day. I only wished she was still alive to see what an amazing teenager Abby had become, sometimes inspite of me. Chuckling at the thought, I pulled the heavy door open, allowing Abby to enter first.

Giving me an odd look, I figured she wondered what her crazy father was laughing about, but she didn’t say anything. I imagined she kept her thoughts to herself to avoid having me embarrass her in any way, because according to Abby, my sole purpose in life was to humiliate her.

Ah, once an overdramatic teenager, always an overdramatic teenager.

After saying hello to the librarians she’d come to know on a first name basis, she turned and finally asked me what I wanted to show her.

It only took a moment for me to find my book, taped up on the wall right above the checkout area like I’d asked. I wanted her to see the message every time she borrowed something from the library.

I watched silently as her eyes wandered over the books until she finally found the one I was pointing towards.

The inscription read:

“The more that you read, the more things you will know.

The more you learn, the more places you’ll go.”

I will always love you and your passions.

Your very proud,


“You donated?” she gasped, hugging me fiercely.

“Of course I did. I’d give you the world if I could, Abby. Always remember that.”

Price of Beauty – Daily Picsperation

I forgot to add this from my 9/20 Daily Picsperation post

Price of Beauty

“Chin down just a bit, Elena,” Herb shouted from where he stood, camera poised in front of his face.

She’d been standing in these stiletto heels for the last three hours, wearing barely any clothes to try and get the shot for next month’s Vogue spread. Elena knew she was the most sought after supermodel this year, and understanding the relative short life-cycle of one, she was focused on capitalizing on her fame now while she could.

The assistant came over to fluff her hair and touch up her lips, giving Elena a chance to rest, even if it was for but a moment. She knew how people saw her profession. They were constantly saying things like, “So what, you have to stand there for a few hours and have your picture taken? How hard could it be?” What they didn’t know or usually wait around for her reply was that it actually was strenuous work. She was expected in hair and make-up some days hours before the sun would rise. Her work required her to be in peak physical condition, even if that meant eating fewer calories in a day than most people consume in one meal. She often had to be photographed in skimpy gowns in near frigid weather or in bikini’s taken while she was rolling around in chilly water, all the while plastering whatever expression the photographer or client expected at the time. No, being a model wasn’t easy, no matter what people thought.

Granted, she had always enjoyed her work. She loved feeling beautiful and seeing her face in magazines and on billboards, yet Elena also understood that her beauty would fade and eventually people wouldn’t be paying to see her in anything but the JC Penny catalog, if she was lucky. While many of her model friends and acquaintances lived the party life, enjoying the perks that came with the job, Elena only went out to parties if it was something she felt would further her brand, or a client she was currently working with. She would limit herself to one drink, sipping on it casually through the evening to give everyone the impression that she was as ‘fun’ as the rest of them. In reality, she took these opportunities to scope out key people in the industry. Contacts that she could use when her modeling career was over, people who could give her a hand should she ever need it. Elena wanted to be considered as savvy and successful as Heidi Klum in her post modeling life.

“I think that’s it,” Herb shouted, wandering toward her with a wide toothy smile.

Elena knew what would come next. Even though she was teetering at the top echelon of her profession, she was still often required to make sacrifices to stay there.

Wrapping a warm hand around her slim waist, he lecherously whispered, “See you in my studio in about an hour. And wear those heels.”