Good morning Faithful Friday Fiction Fans,
It's a cloudy, rainy morning here. We've had some gentle rumbles of thunder, some light rain and now things are quiet. I think we're supposed to get more rain later. But this is a nice change from the hot 100ยบ weather we've been having.
This has been a different sort of week. I was planning on writing. Lots of writing. But I wrote for the first time last night. Here's the rundown.
I had been planning on getting the Bike Trip book finished and uploaded to CreateSpace on Saturday. But things weren't right. The files were too large, and I had to spend an hour resizing all the pages I had created, and another hour inserting them again. Then there was something wrong and the pages weren't lining up right.
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| This is the front cover of the book. |
Sunday I checked some files, found some duplicate pages and some missing pages.
Monday I planned to finish things. I made the last corrections, fixed some pages, then tried uploading it. It uploaded, but wouldn't change to a pdf. I finally just decided to wait until Tuesday because I was tired of messing with it!
Tuesday. Story of the day: The file won't save as a pdf. I spent four and a half hours trying everything I could think of. Nothing worked. There were tears, prayers, and finally God nudged me to try opening the file in a different format. I did, it saved as a pdf with no problem. Uploaded the file, finished the cover, and yesterday I ordered my proof copy.
Wednesday we ended up having all 6 grandkids over because my brother had to go to Urgent Care/ER with what they thought might be a blood clot. It's not, thankfully, but it is a bacterial infection. Add that to his athlete's foot, and my sis-in-law who is due next Saturday, and you have a family that could use prayers. :)
Anyway, I got the Bike Trip proof copy ordered, I received my proof copy of Dylan's Story, and I've been working on my Christmas books.
Enjoy this next part of the story.
Through an Author's Eyes
Part 4
“I think so, but I didn’t know if you would or not. I can’t describe things as you can. Dad said he wants you to paint a word picture of the house and barn as seen from the gate.”
“Why doesn’t he do it?” Annette was puzzled because her uncle was a writer like she was. Surely he could do just as well if not better than she could at describing his own place.
“He likes the way you describe scenes. He said, well, I won’t tell you what he said or you may not write a scene again.”
Unbuckling as Savanna stopped before the house and turned off the car, Annette laughed. She couldn’t imagine anything stopping her from writing. Writing was just a part of who she was. She had to write like some people seemed to have to text all the time.
A large dog ran around the house barking a warm greeting. “That’s John Wayne; he’ll like you once I introduce you.”
It took only a minute for the dog, which Savanna said was an Australian German Shepherd mix, to make friends with Annette. The front door of the house swung open and a young girl, a boy a little older, and someone Annette knew had to be her aunt hurried out to the porch followed a few minutes later by a man who looked much like her own dad.
“Annette!” Aunt Yvonne exclaimed, hurrying down the porch steps with her arms out. “You finally made it!”
Annette found herself in a warm embrace. “I’m so glad you let me come!”
“Of course we’d let you come,” laughed Uncle Cleveland, pulling her into hug. “I’m tired of being the lone writer in the place. It’ll be nice to exchange ideas with someone who doesn’t look at me as though I were crazy.”
Returning the hug, Annette laughed also. “I’d never think you were crazy, but I’m afraid you’ll think I’m a bit of a nut.”
Uncle Cleveland chuckled and held her off at arm’s length. “You look just like your mom. She wasn’t much of a nut, so I don’t expect you’ll be too bad.” He winked and everyone laughed.
“Oh, you can talk writing another time,” Savanna interrupted, pulling Annette back. “This is Devon and Ava,” she said, introducing the children. “Ava is seven and Devon just turned eleven. I expect Levi and Vic are out on the range somewhere.”
It was all a bit of a whirlwind for Annette as the little girl hugged her, Devon shook hands looking slightly shy, and then grabbed part of her luggage while Uncle Cleveland asked questions, the dog barked, and Savanna and Aunt Yvonne talked. In no time at all she found herself inside, following Savanna who kept up a constant chatter about the house as they climbed the stairs and turned down a hall. Finally they stopped before a door which was half way closed. “Here’s your room.”
Pushing it open, Annette surveyed the room with a smile of complete satisfaction. The room was a comfortable size, not too large, yet not small either. A desk stood beside one wall just waiting for her laptop. The bed was a double bed and covered with a denim and red rag quilt. Three windows let plenty of light into the room, and Annette lost no time in hurrying to look out of one of them. From it she could see the barn and corrals. And the mountains. Oh, those mountains!
To her right, when she finally pulled herself away from the view, was a walk-in closet large enough for every piece of clothing she owned!
“You have a bathroom all to yourself,” Savanna informed her, motioning to a door on the other side of the room. “We know writers keep strange hours at times, so we thought it would be easier for you not to have to try and bunk with anyone. Besides, if we shared a room, we’d talk all the time and you’d never get anything written. Now, we’ll let you settle in. Come on, Devon, Ava.” Turning back to her cousin, she added, “You can unpack now or later. But you might want to change into something a little more practical for a tour of the ranch. Something like boots on your feet would be good for a start.”
Annette looked down at her comfortable shoes. They were low and light colored. “All right, but I don’t have any cowboy boots. We didn’t have time to go shopping for any.”
“No problem. I’ve got an extra pair. You can wear them for now. Come down when you’re ready.”
“Thanks, Savanna.”
Left alone in her room, Annette looked about her once more. The desk was no doubt put there for her use. She wondered if she’d write better at the desk or in front of the window. “I guess I’ll have to try writing in both places,” she decided, setting her carry-on down on the desk’s smooth surface.
It didn’t take Annette long to unpack and get settled. She quickly changed into her most comfortable denim skirt and a t-shirt. It took a few second to brush her hair back into a fresh ponytail and then she hurried from her room. The glimpses of the house she had seen on her way upstairs made her long to explore, but she knew Savanna would be waiting for her. And she did want to see the rest of the ranch. After making two wrong turns, she discovered the kitchen and found everyone waiting for her. Or at least they were standing around not seeming to be busy about anything.
“Here,” Savanna said, pointing to a pair of western boots on the floor. “See if these fit you.”
Sliding her feet in, Annette strode about the house. “I feel ten feet tall and able to lick my weight in wildcats,” she joked, grinning. “They fit.”
“Can me and Devon go out with you?” Ava begged.
“Why doesn’t he do it?” Annette was puzzled because her uncle was a writer like she was. Surely he could do just as well if not better than she could at describing his own place.
“He likes the way you describe scenes. He said, well, I won’t tell you what he said or you may not write a scene again.”
Unbuckling as Savanna stopped before the house and turned off the car, Annette laughed. She couldn’t imagine anything stopping her from writing. Writing was just a part of who she was. She had to write like some people seemed to have to text all the time.
A large dog ran around the house barking a warm greeting. “That’s John Wayne; he’ll like you once I introduce you.”
It took only a minute for the dog, which Savanna said was an Australian German Shepherd mix, to make friends with Annette. The front door of the house swung open and a young girl, a boy a little older, and someone Annette knew had to be her aunt hurried out to the porch followed a few minutes later by a man who looked much like her own dad.
“Annette!” Aunt Yvonne exclaimed, hurrying down the porch steps with her arms out. “You finally made it!”
Annette found herself in a warm embrace. “I’m so glad you let me come!”
“Of course we’d let you come,” laughed Uncle Cleveland, pulling her into hug. “I’m tired of being the lone writer in the place. It’ll be nice to exchange ideas with someone who doesn’t look at me as though I were crazy.”
Returning the hug, Annette laughed also. “I’d never think you were crazy, but I’m afraid you’ll think I’m a bit of a nut.”
Uncle Cleveland chuckled and held her off at arm’s length. “You look just like your mom. She wasn’t much of a nut, so I don’t expect you’ll be too bad.” He winked and everyone laughed.
“Oh, you can talk writing another time,” Savanna interrupted, pulling Annette back. “This is Devon and Ava,” she said, introducing the children. “Ava is seven and Devon just turned eleven. I expect Levi and Vic are out on the range somewhere.”
It was all a bit of a whirlwind for Annette as the little girl hugged her, Devon shook hands looking slightly shy, and then grabbed part of her luggage while Uncle Cleveland asked questions, the dog barked, and Savanna and Aunt Yvonne talked. In no time at all she found herself inside, following Savanna who kept up a constant chatter about the house as they climbed the stairs and turned down a hall. Finally they stopped before a door which was half way closed. “Here’s your room.”
Pushing it open, Annette surveyed the room with a smile of complete satisfaction. The room was a comfortable size, not too large, yet not small either. A desk stood beside one wall just waiting for her laptop. The bed was a double bed and covered with a denim and red rag quilt. Three windows let plenty of light into the room, and Annette lost no time in hurrying to look out of one of them. From it she could see the barn and corrals. And the mountains. Oh, those mountains!
To her right, when she finally pulled herself away from the view, was a walk-in closet large enough for every piece of clothing she owned!
“You have a bathroom all to yourself,” Savanna informed her, motioning to a door on the other side of the room. “We know writers keep strange hours at times, so we thought it would be easier for you not to have to try and bunk with anyone. Besides, if we shared a room, we’d talk all the time and you’d never get anything written. Now, we’ll let you settle in. Come on, Devon, Ava.” Turning back to her cousin, she added, “You can unpack now or later. But you might want to change into something a little more practical for a tour of the ranch. Something like boots on your feet would be good for a start.”
Annette looked down at her comfortable shoes. They were low and light colored. “All right, but I don’t have any cowboy boots. We didn’t have time to go shopping for any.”
“No problem. I’ve got an extra pair. You can wear them for now. Come down when you’re ready.”
“Thanks, Savanna.”
Left alone in her room, Annette looked about her once more. The desk was no doubt put there for her use. She wondered if she’d write better at the desk or in front of the window. “I guess I’ll have to try writing in both places,” she decided, setting her carry-on down on the desk’s smooth surface.
It didn’t take Annette long to unpack and get settled. She quickly changed into her most comfortable denim skirt and a t-shirt. It took a few second to brush her hair back into a fresh ponytail and then she hurried from her room. The glimpses of the house she had seen on her way upstairs made her long to explore, but she knew Savanna would be waiting for her. And she did want to see the rest of the ranch. After making two wrong turns, she discovered the kitchen and found everyone waiting for her. Or at least they were standing around not seeming to be busy about anything.
“Here,” Savanna said, pointing to a pair of western boots on the floor. “See if these fit you.”
Sliding her feet in, Annette strode about the house. “I feel ten feet tall and able to lick my weight in wildcats,” she joked, grinning. “They fit.”
“Can me and Devon go out with you?” Ava begged.
If you are a writer, do people think you're a bit strange?
Do you think other writers are strange?
Do you wear cowboy boots?
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