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    Entries in cozy mysteries (3)

    Sunday
    Jan152017

    Fiction Writing and "The Big Audacious Lie"

     

    VIDEO:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tXpbYmRIHsQ

    Watch the video on Youtube:

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tXpbYmRIHsQ

    Make it a great week,

    Judy

    Saturday
    Nov262016

    An Excerpt from "The Killer Show"

    This three-character scene includes the narrator, Simone, her sister, Violet, and their father, Grit.This scene depicts Grit's nature and his relationship with his daughters.

    The scene's backstory: Grit has had a pulmonary embolism and a week long hospital stay. Now he's eager to go home.

    Thanks for reading.

    The sky, a cobalt blue, looked like a touched-up post card, with a bright sun bouncing off signs and windows. We parked in the car park, on the top floor, and headed through the connector hallway into the building on the fourth floor.

    When we pushed open Grit's door, he was dressed, sitting in a chair, facing the door.

    “There you are!” His face lit up.

    Not ten minutes later, the nurse walked in and said Grit was cleared to leave. An attendant wheeled him out to the front door while I pulled his old Buick around. The attendant buckled him into the passenger seat, and I eased ahead.

    “Watch that vehicle. He's pulling out.” Grit jabbed a finger at the windshield.

    I nodded and slowed.

    “Breathe. Just be patient,” I told myself.

    “Turn left here. You want to avoid that intersection straight a head.”

    “Hey. Relax.” I gripped the steering wheel, and turned left.

    For the rest of the drive, I bit my tongue.

    But getting him out of the car was another matter.

    I have to admit, Violet and I fussed over him like a couple of kids with a fragile kitten. One of us on either side of him, holding his arms. In this manner, we stumbled with him into the house, bumped doorways, knocked into the kitchen table, and in a clumsy effort, navigated through the family room, colliding with a side table. Finally, we reached his threshold of anger.

    He flailed his arms loose and chaffed us with a loud burst of invective objections. At that moment, we both fell back in silence, back into the role of small children under his parental authority.

    Make it a great week,

    Judy

    Friday
    Feb052016

    Humor at a Writer's Expense