The Things I'm Going to Do

Good morning, FFFFs,

It's Friday once again and I didn't have much time to search through my archives and find a story for you. But I did find a poem that I think I've only posted once, so I hope you enjoy it. I'd love to turn it into a children's picture book, but I can't draw pictures for everything, or find photos. Maybe some day down the road I'll publish it.

This week had disappeared really quickly. I got some really good writing done on Monday and Tuesday. Wednesday's count was only 500, and yesterday . . .  Well, I got a whopping 20 words written. Yeah, it was pitiful! I tried every story and nothing would come. My mind was blank. It might have had something to do with the fact that I had just had a 2 hour training for working the polls and came home with a slight headache from the overly warm room. Whatever the reason, I decided to not try to force words to come. Sometimes that works, other times not so much.

But this has been a rather exciting week in some ways.

1. Book Brush took my suggestion and created a 4x6 cover template so now I can design my Christmas Collection books on there! And I can create other 4x6 books. *thinks of all the stories I want to have in paperback*

2. Book Brush was doing a promotional and giving away 5 credits for their new Background Removal Tool on their cover creator for the first 200 people who shared about it. I shared and got 5 credits!

3. I'm working on creating my first mini course. It will be a 6 week course walking you through the steps to self-publish your book on KDP. Lesson One is just about finished, and I have a good start on Lesson Two. I'm hoping to release it in mid to late April.

4. I designed a cover for "To Give Hope" and plan to publish it as a kindle story in the next few weeks.

And so that's what's been going on in my life.

The Things I’m Going to Do
by
Rebekah M.

I’m going to ski down a hill on skis,
Glide across the ice on skates;
I’m going to drive a great big tractor
and swing on a few old gates.

I’m going to shoot a rifle
And tote a pocket gun;
I’m going to hike a mountain
and lie out in the sun.

I’m going to ride on horse back,
I’m going to fly a plane;
Going to soar in an air balloon
And travel far by train.

I’m going to round up cattle,
Act in a Shakespeare play;
I’m going to visit the opera,
And I’m going to cut some hay.

I’m going to visit all fifty states,
And meet a president;
I’m going to explore a ghost town
And sleep out in a tent.

I’m going to teach in China,
Stop by Timbuktu;
I’m going to climb the Alps,
And visit Lafayette’s tomb.

I’m going to splash in an ocean,
Build a real igloo;
I’m going to feed an elephant,
And ride a camel or two.

I’m going to climb Sears tower,
Touch the Statue of Liberty;
I’m going to cross the Golden Gate Bridge
And tour Washington D. C.

I’m going to visit West Point,
Give Annapolis a look;
I’m going to run a newspaper
And publish many books.

I’m going to conduct a symphony,
Enter a county fair;
Give a rousing speech on Broadway
And find a bird that’s rare.

I’m going to visit some Indians,
Sing a solo on TV;
I’m going to nanny for quadruplets
And uncover a mystery.

I’m going to be awfully busy,
And awfully old for sure
Before I could ever do these things
I’ve never done before.

So, I think I’ll stick with dreaming,
And reading books instead;
At least I will for the present
And travel in my head.

What of these things have you already done?

Are you interested in a how to publish course?

Has anything exciting or fun happened to you this week?

I Don't Have a Story

Good morning, FFFs,

I don't have a story for you this morning. Sorry. I didn't have a new one, and I didn't have time to go find an old one to re-post. So you'll have to do without.

However, I have been getting some writing done. I've really been struggling to get into one of my dozen stories that I have started, so instead of trying to force the words (that may come later), I've been rereading some of my short stories that have had covers designed. One got a new opening paragraph. Another received a completely different ending. And I still have a couple other stories that I need to reread and see what I should do with them. I know "Hurray for Newsy Jones" needs almost rewritten, and I have to format the play part. Yes, I'm planning on publishing that as a story with a link to download the play.

This week has gone by quickly! I've gotten almost everything finished for the widows' ministry at church. My best friend came and took a photo for the cover of a new story. I just can't publish the story yet because it's a part of a title challenge. (Everyone had to write a story for the same title.) I got my taxes done, which is always a relief, and last night my grandparents were down and Grandpa and I went to a music concert. It was good. We heard the Horszowski Piano Trio. They played Schumann, Carter, and Shostakovich.

If I had a story for you, I'd post it right now, but I don't. Instead I'll share a poem I wrote and posted nine years ago. Enjoy!

Books
Books aplenty, books galore,
My favorite place is a used book store.

Books of world history,
Books of missions or mystery,

Books of travel, books of prose,
Books smell better than a fresh picked rose.

Books of ancient tales of yore,
Books more modern by the score.

Books in blue and books in red,
Books of animals long since dead.

Books for children, books for teens,
Books for old or the in-betweens.

Books in that room, books in this,
Books on those shelves belong to Sis.

Mom has her books here and there,
In fact, Mom's books are everywhere!

My shelves are crowded with most of my books,
The rest I squeeze in many odd nooks.

As I said before, there are books galore,
But still I love a used book store.

How was your week?

Do you love used book stores?

If you could pick one of my short stories to be published, which would it be?

What T Didn't Know - Part 8

Happy Valentine's Day, dear readers,

I know many single girls and young ladies seem to be almost against Valentine's Day. They talk tough because they don't have a boyfriend to give them chocolates or roses. Some try to mask the hurt of being single another day when love is celebrated. But guess what? We don't have to feel that way! We are loved with an everlasting love! The King of glory loves us. Can it get any better than that? Yes, getting roses, chocolates, or other gifts from special guys is nice, but flowers fade, chocolates get eaten, and gifts wear out. Even boyfriends leave, or husbands die. But the everlasting love is just that–everlasting. So, if you start to feel sad or depressed today, remember Who loves you.

Last Saturday we had our Widows' Valentine Luncheon at church. Only one widow couldn't come. We had a wonderful time. Now I'm working on getting people signed up for this new year of ministry.

Writing is a bit slower this week. I've still written something each day, but some has been on a new "Ria and the Gang" story, last night I worked on a "Kelsey" story, and another night I worked on "Lawrence and Lenexa." I have no idea what I'll work on tonight. My nieces and nephews will be here over lunch instead of for supper, so I should be able to get something written.

And now, here is the final part of "What Tommy Didn't Know." I hope you enjoy it.

What T Didn’t Know

Part 8

    “Tommy.” A hand rested lightly on his good arm. “Come on, Tommy, wake up.”
    “Go ‘way,” he muttered without moving.
    A soft chuckle answered him. “I’m not leaving until you eat a little bit. Nurse Wilson is quite upset because you didn’t wake up for her. You can sleep again after you’ve eaten a few bites. Come on now, wake up, son.”
    It took great effort for Tommy to force his eyes open. Dr. Hall was standing beside his bed, and the room was flooded with light. “Time is it?” he mumbled, blinking and then yawning widely.
    “A little after two. You’ve been sleeping so soundly that you haven’t heard a thing. How are you feeling today?”
    “Don’t know.” And Tommy’s eyes closed again.
    Dr. Hall chuckled again. “Now yet, Tommy. Just a few bites first.”
    With a sigh, Tommy opened his eyes. He was a little hungry. As he obediently swallowed what was held to his lips, he grew more awake, and memories of last night came back. “Am I dead now?”
    “Sure are. The Times says so. It was a robbery gone wrong according to our fine editor. Have you ever gotten to meet the editor of the Times, Tommy?” Dr. Hall offered another spoonful of the warm soup.
    “No.”
    “He would like to meet you. After you come back to life next year we’ll make it happen.”
    “Do you think the police will get–them?” Tommy didn’t like thinking about what might happen if Edward Stratamyer didn’t get caught, or– He drew a quick breath and choked on his soup.
    “Easy there!” Dr. Hall carefully raised him up a little and gave him some water. “I don’t want you to breathe it.” He smiled. “Feeling better now?”
    Tommy let his head fall back onto the pillow. “What if–” He gave another little cough. Maybe he shouldn’t bring it up. Maybe–
    “What if what, son?”
    Tommy liked how the doctor said “son.” It was a name he was never called. Folks who didn’t know him called him boy or sonny, or sometimes lad, but Dr. Hall was the only one who said son. He wondered, as he had so many times before, who his father was and who his mother was. It would be nice to have a last name. “I guess I’ll get me one,” he murmured.
    “Get you what?”
    “A last name. I might like . . . to be somebody . . . one of these days.” He looked across the room at the wall. There was no gold gilded mirror there, instead there was a framed verse. He couldn’t read it from the bed. “What’s that say?” He pointed.
    “Trust in the Lord with all thine heart . . . And He will direct your paths.”
    “Even almost bein’ killed twice?”
    “Yes, Tommy. Even then. You weren’t killed either time, were you? And you remembered what evil was planned and were able to tell the authorities so it can be stopped.”
    For a minute Tommy lay silent and still. He knew God directed the steps of those who trusted in Him, and that would mean him, for he had trusted Christ to save him from sin several years ago. But nothing big had ever happened. Life had just gone on like usual, except for getting an actual paper route. “If I didn’t have that paper route, I wouldn’t a been sittin’ in that doorway an’ heard them talkin’,” he said, not realizing he was speaking aloud. “An’ then I wouldn’t a been beaten up.” He frowned at that unpleasant memory. “Nor almost shot in bed. But I were. An’ I told what I heard. But–” Fear sparked inside him, and he looked up at the man who had been a friend to him, “if they do catch ‘em, they’ll know who told an’ then they’ll try to kill me again!”
    “No,” Dr. Hall assured him quickly. “The police will wait until they can catch them in the act of robbing the house. Then they can be sent to prison. And by the time they get out, you will have grown older, and who knows, perhaps you’ll have found a last name.” The doctor smiled. “You don’t have to worry about it, son.”
    A knock on the door made Dr. Hall rise. “That’s probably Bruce with Diego. Are you ready to see him?”

*

    The trees outside Tommy’s windows were covered with a blanket of snow. Some flakes still fluttered down in the gray of early dawn. Tommy had been awake for some time. He wasn’t sure if it was his long sleep yesterday or a wondering excitement and nervousness about this new year. Had the police caught the men who had planned robbing just for a wager? Would he be able to go back to his own little home, cold and small though it was? And who would do his paper route until he could return to it? How could he live without it until he was well? And the doctor’s bills. How could he afford them?
    His eyes moved from the window and rested on the framed verse. It was still too dark to read it, but Tommy knew the verse by heart and quoted it in a whisper. “Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.”
    His whispered words roused Diego from his blanket on the floor, and he whined softly to be petted. Tommy had a hard time doing this to his dog’s satisfaction because his bed wasn’t on the floor as it was in his own little shack. “Sorry, Diego,” he whispered. “If you were on the bed I could do it better.”
    This was all the invitation Diego needed, for with a bound he sprang onto the chair, and then it was easy for him to cross the gap to the bed.
    Tommy smiled. “Ya know we’ll get in trouble if Nurse Wilson comes into the room ‘fore Dr. Hall, don’t ya?”
    Diego stretched himself out beside his young master, being careful not to get too close. Resting his muzzle on his front paws, he looked with deep brown eyes at Tommy, and his look said plainly that he wasn’t scared of anyone.
    This was how Dr. Hall found them some time later when he went to make his morning call on his young patient. A smile twitched the corners of his mouth, and he stood for a moment stroking his mustache. Diego raised his head and regarded the doctor for a moment before lowering his head once more.
    “Well, Diego,” Dr. Hall said quietly, “if anyone deserves to be left there, you do, but I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to move.” He stroked the dog’s head. “Tommy.”
    With a sleepy sigh, Tommy yawned and then opened his eyes drowsily. All at once he was wide awake. It was the new year. “Did they catch ‘em?”
    “Yes, son, they did. They were caught in the act by the police and Mr. Vandermark. Both men are in prison now.”
    Tommy felt as though a great weight had been lifted from him, but he only said, “I’m glad.”
    “The Lord did direct your paths, son, didn’t He?”
    “Yes, sir.”

Did you enjoy the rest of this story?

What story would you like me to work on?

Are you doing anything special today?

What T Didn't Know - Part 7

Happy February, faithful Friday fiction fans,

(How's that for an alliteration?)

We got snow this week! Like real snow that stuck and actually was deep enough to cover the grass! First we had a thin layer of sleet, then it changed to snow and snowed almost all morning on Wednesday. Right after lunch my best friend and I went out for a walk in the snow. She took pictures. How's this for a picture?

Then we walked back to her house (just a block from mine) and we built a small fire and roasted marshmallows and ate s'mores. We've been wanting to have s'mores in the snow, and it was good because it was also February which means we got this month's s'mores in too.

Tomorrow is the Widows' Valentine Luncheon. We set up and decorate today. The roads are mostly clear, but there's still snow in the yards. Tomorrow is supposed to be sunny and in the 40s, so I'm hoping and praying all the widows will be able to make it.

Writing has sort of happened. It's rather slow this week, but I'm making myself write at least 100 words each day. I may have to switch to some of my other stories until the "secret project" gets rolling. But don't worry, I think I counted about 5 other stories that are started. ;)

And here you go. I wonder how many of you just skipped this first part to get to the story and then came back to this later. Don't worry, I won't be upset if you did. You only have one more part after today.

What T Didn’t Know

Part 7

    Dr. Hall quickly filled the officers in and then added, “Tommy just remembered why someone would want to kill him, but I want to move him to a warmer room.”
    “That would be good. I want a few of my men to start searching. Bruce here says there’s a gun on the ground. I don’t want whoever it is to come back for it.” The sergeant issued orders and took a look at the bed.
    “Daniel,” Nurse Wilson said, coming back, “the room is ready upstairs.”
    “Thanks, Nellie. Sergeant, do you want to follow us while I move Tommy to a new room?”
    “Yep.”
     Dr. Hall stooped over the boy who lay shaking on the soft carpet. “All right. Tommy, I know this isn’t going to be pleasant, but you’ll feel better after we get you back in bed.”
    Tommy bit his lip to keep back his cry of pain as the doctor gently lifted him and carried him from the room.
    It was several minutes after Tommy had been laid in the new bed upstairs, covered with warm blankets and given a spoonful of medicine before the pain subsided enough for Tommy to be able to think.
    “Can you talk now, son?” Dr. Hall asked softly.
    Tommy frowned in pain. “What’s today?”
    “December thirtieth,” Dr. Hall answered, his fingers once again on Tommy’s pulse.
    “Then there’s still time ta stop ‘em.”
    “Stop them? Stop who, Tommy?”
    “Begin at the beginnin’, laddie, so’s it’ll all make sense to me,” the officer said.
    Swallowing a bit of the drink the doctor held to his lips, Tommy stroked his dog’s head. “I was takin’ shelter in a doorway of an abandoned building on the east side from that sleet we had that mornin’. I heard voices. I looked out an’ seen two men. One was in a fancy car an’ the other was on foot. The wind blew their words right to me an’ I couldn’t help hearin’.” His hand dropped over the side of the bed and found Diego’s head as he fell silent.
    “What did you hear, Tommy?”
    “They were plannin’ on robbin’ the Vandermark’s house on New Year’s Eve when the family was gone to a party.”
    “How were they going to do that?” The policeman looked skeptical.
    “The man on foot works for the Vandermarks. He was going to let the other man in.” Tommy shivered a little and Dr. Hall rose.
    “Let me get another blanket.”
    This was done quickly, and Tommy relaxed a little. “It was a wager.”
    “What was?” The sergeant scratched his head.
    Tommy frowned a little. Couldn’t this man understand? Why hadn’t Officer Joe come in to ask questions?
    “Go on, Tommy,” Dr. Hall’s voice was low. “Tell us everything you know.”
    “The man in the car said he had a wager with several friends that he could rob the house and get away with it. Said it’d be the perfect crime.”
    “Couldn’t be a perfect crime if the other man knew about it,” muttered the sergeant. “Do you know who the other man was? The one in the car.”
    Tommy nodded and immediately wished he hadn’t, for his head started to throb again. “It . . . was . . . Edward Stratamyer.”
    “The father?” Disbelief filled the sergeant’s face.
    “No, the son.”
    “And after you heard all this, what happened?”
    It was easy for Tommy to hear the skepticism in the policeman’s voice. “I waited till after they were gone, but it weren’t long enough, I guess. They had moved off, out of my sight but they stopped to talk again, an’ when I left the doorway . . . they saw me.”
    “Where were you goin’?”
    “The police.”
    Dr. Hall picked up the story. “So they saw you and must have realized you had heard them, right?”
    “Yes,” Tommy whispered. He didn’t want to remember the threats he’d received or the beating he had gotten.
    “They must have taken you to the alley where you were found and dumped you to die.”
    “But why try and kill me now?” That was the part Tommy didn’t understand.
    “You haven’t seen the papers, son. They had a big headline about you and how you had been found. There has been something almost every day about you and how you don’t remember what happened. No doubt these two men have read that and decided that they needed to make sure you never remembered.”
    Tommy lay silent. He had never dreamed as he sat shivering in the icy doorway that the men who had been planning a robbery would try to kill him twice. He was just a newspaper boy. And why would someone who came from a family with as much wealth and influence as the Stratamyers want to rob another wealthy family anyway? Didn’t that young man know the Bible said not to steal? It was all very puzzling.
    “The only thing to do,” the sergeant said, after standing up and pacing to the window and back, “is for Tommy to die.”
    Tommy gasped and turned startled eyes on the doctor. No, surely his new friend wouldn’t allow that!
    “Relax, son,” Dr. Hall said. “Just in the papers. If they print a headline about the shooting and say that you are dead, I think Edward Stratamyer will go on with his plan and the police can catch him.”
    “Oh.” Tommy closed his eyes again. Right then he didn’t care if the playboy son of the great Mr. Stratamyer got caught by the police or not, the only thing he wanted was to be left alone to sleep.

*

    “Tommy.”
    Sleepily Tommy made a sound in his throat but couldn’t get his eyes open. They were too heavy, and he didn’t want to wake up. It had been late before the police had left, and Dr. Hall had given him something to help him sleep.
    “Tommy.” A hand rested lightly on his good arm. “Come on, Tommy, wake up.”
    “Go ‘way,” he muttered without moving.

Did you read the story first?

Have you ever felt like Tommy when someone woke you?

Did you enjoy any snow this week?