You and your little dog, too

D: One day, A–

A: Don’t you start.

D: There’s so much potential in a simple “one day” word prompt, and yet. . .

A: Go on.

Not Dorothy, but wicked none-the-less. The Wicked Witch of the West as drawn by W. W. Denslow for The Wonderful Wizard of Oz.
Not Dorothy, but wicked none-the-less. The Wicked Witch of the West as drawn by W. W. Denslow for The Wonderful Wizard of Oz.

D: And yet, you fill it with The Wonderful Wizard of Oz.

A: Because The Wonderful Wizard of Oz is brilliant. Did I ever tell you that I thought I was Dorothy? I had several pairs of glittered Mary-Janes as a child. And a dog. In a basket.

D: I think you have told me, and yet each time, it’s a surprise.

A: Oi! it’s the mark of a creative—

D: (read: Crazy)

A: Creative mind. Why else did you think it was such a fertile place for you to take root?

D: Fertile? It’d darn-right hostile in here sometimes. Could you please tell your other characters to leave my stuff alone? I think I caught the kid from “The House at Carrick Close” filching the dagger the Druids gave me.

A: Be nice to Charlie. He didn’t mean anything by it.

D: That thing is gold, A. The little runt is looking to pawn it to buy more sweets, I know it.

A: He is not. He looks up to you, D. Be nice.

D: He does? Oh. Well. I suppose the little scamp can look at it if he wants . . . under supervision, mind! (Bloody kids and their sticky hands . . . mutter, mutter, grumble).

A: Here’s some handy-wipes. Now, behave.

D: Behave? What? What is Charlie doing here, A?

A: Oh nothing. Now, I’ll be back at 10. Make sure Charlie is in bed  – he likes a night-light and a warm glass of milk, plus  a story.

D: A? I am not your babysitter. A, where are you going? A! Come back here! A!

C: D. . . D, can I have a cookie?

D: No, now just sit there and let me read you a story. . . (I’ll get you for this, A. You and your little dog, too!)

Oh, what a world . . .

“One day, one day I’ll see to it your precious city is destroyed. One day, you will come crawling to me to bring back your power – without me you are nothing, little girl. You and that rat – one day, one day you’ll understand that you’re just like me.”

“What is she doing?”

“I don’t know – I kind of like it though.”

“But it’s not in the script.”

The two extras exchanged glances. Burt was dressed up as a gnarled tree today, and Roger was on sentry duty.

“So? It’s the Maestro’s show. Short of a bucket of water, I don’t think anything is going to stop her now.”

The sallow-skinned but curvaceous young woman cackled. Surely, it was only the light that made it green, Bert thought. Well, not really, but she’d paid for this little production, and he was going to be as generous with his thoughts as he could. Word was, she could read ‘em.

“Does anyone have a bucket of water?” Roger was looking around as though he was actually serious. As a Winkie, he could actually get close enough to do it, too.

One day, I’ll get you my pretty – one day!”

“Cut! Westie, what are you doing, my luscious lime?”

“But Ozzie, I thought you wanted me to give it my all.”

“I do my love, but . . . but what’s with all this ‘one day’ stuff? Where’s your power? Where’s your now?”

“You mean, you like everything else?”

“Oh sure – it’s great. When we’re done here, no one is ever going to remember that Dora chick—“

“It’s Dorothy, Ozzie.”

“Whatever. She’s a minor thing, pet. You on the other hand, you are a star. Just go with it – but take out the ‘one day’ stuff. Remember, you’re powerful! You’re now!”

Bert and Roger eyed each other and groaned. It would be a good hour before Westie and Ozzie managed to bring themselves back to the production. Rodger jerked his chin to the canteen. Bert grinned and the two of them shuffled off. No one would miss one tree or a guard. So long as no one got fancy with that bucket of water, everything would be fine.

Originally posted on The Community Storyboard for the week of October 6 “one day” prompt.

So, yes, I really did run around calling myself Dorothy Gale – shoes, basket, stuffed dog and all. If you could have been any character (movie, TV or book), who would you have been as a kid? What about today?

Song of the Lonely Maiden

D: Really A?

A: Best. Song. Ever.

(not sure what assasin’s creed has to do with this, but it was the best version… go with it!)

D: You know just how to turn my anguish into a joke. I’m not ready for this A.

A: What’s the matter, D? It’s just a poem. And not the easiest poem that’s ever crawled its way out of my brain.

D: If that’s how it felt for you, imagine what it’s doing to me, woman.

A: I know it needs work, D but it’s for your book – you could try to be nice.

D: Nice? A! This isn’t about you or your questionable prose – this is about me!

A: (eye roll) Big surprise there.

D: I mean, this is about Mairead and me. I think she’s still pissed.

A: Do you blame her? I mean, centuries of waiting, D.

D: I’m not the one who went and got married.

A: She thought you were dead.

D: Sure, that’s what she says.

A: D! God I am so glad I have time before I have to write your story with her.

D: Why’s that –

A: Because if it were up to me now, she’d slap you across the face and empty a tankard of mead on your head.

D: Oh, I think she did that . . . of course, it was after I—

A: I don’t want to know. I really really don’t want to know.

D: Suit yourself.

Mairead’s Song

In whispers, you come to me.

Faceless phantom.

Without words you beg me,

Wait.

I’ve loved you forever,

And my heart you kept close to your own.

Hands we did clasp, and promises make.

But war and deceit reached out to claim you,

Others had claws that did rend your heart.

Soul gift with magic, you belonged to Another

And with brothers in arms, you did march.

Storms on the horizon scream out in anguish

Mourning the sons who lay dead on the plain

Ravens whispered you lay among them,

Torn and bloody upon the plain.

A choice I made then,

To save us all.

My hand for his army.

Bring them home my only command.

Not dead, yet not alive

Only lost and sore and beaten

Your name on the wind does haunt my waking hours

Damning my days

For misguided honor.

To other lands you wandered

With destiny to fulfill –

The maker of kings,

Who would wake Those Who Sleep,

You fight and die and live again.

Peddlers and bards

Each with a tale to tell

Do sing so sweet with tales of glory.

They do not know they speak of you –

They cannot hear you call my name –

But I know and I hear you truly,

I hear you tell me,

Wait.

Beyond me, away,

So far from me you roam.

Yet I utter words I know you’ll hear

And I reach for you, calling,

I wait.

Why all the poetry? A’s on a mission to complete a compendium of source material for “The Ballad of Dubhshith and Mairead” Read about it – and “The Warrior’s Lament,” the first in the poetry series – here.

October 6 Weekly Prompt – “One Day…”

It’s the prompt for the week of October 6 at the Community Storyboard.

Talented Taliesin Tells Tall Tales

By Green Embers
By Green Embers

I’m baaaack – admit it, you missed the troubadour extraordinaire, the bardest with the mostest, the Druid who is fluid (with words)–

D: What are you doing, A?

A: Oh, Hi D. Um, I’m impersonating you?

D: Go to bed, woman, and leave the tale telling to the pros.

A: So you know how you have yet to take corporeal form outside of my head? If I go to bed–

D: You know what I meant.

A: All right, all right – take it away, Taliesin.

D: Taliesin was Welsh.

Rome Construction Crew

Allow me to start with a round of felicitations to Green Embers, proprietor of the Rome Construction Crew. It may be the place that A goes to hide from me, but it is my belief that she comes back stronger and better able to face the magnificence that is yours truly. Don’t look at me like that; I can be benevolent.

Without further ado, here is what you’ve been missing over at the Rome Construction Crew. For encouragement, goal-setting and general fun, there is no place better.

Literary Syndicate

Papi-Z has style, pizzazz and more than a little desire to help promote artists, writers, poets and all sorts of creative people. Check out the Literary Syndicate, in particular his interview with Red Clay and Roses author, SK Nicholls, and his own version of tale-telling, the Syndicate Shout-outs.

Prompted

Are you at a loss for words? Do you find your mind drawing a blank and need just that edge to help it move again? Me neither, but A insists that prompts are just the thing. As such, here are two prompts to whet your whistle, light your fire and help you spin that tale.

At the community storyboard, they’re talking about angst and longing. In poetic form. Go on, read them all and just in case, bring your tissues, and perhaps something to thrash in your frustration. And if you’ve a mind to, submit your own poem.

The Prompt for the Promptless this week, at The Queen Creative, is lapsus linguae. We’ve all had a slip of the tongue (Keep it clean, D. Erotica week was two weeks ago. . . A, seriously. Tee hee) and this is your opportunity to share it with the world.

A: Could a post on lapsus linguae itself be a slip of the tongue?

D: Do you honestly think these things at this hour?

A: Yes.

D: I knew there was a reason I was in your head. How about impossible things before breakfast?

A: At least 10. But you’re getting off topic. Move on, D.

Super-freaky

It seems fitting that the Bayou Bonhomme Serial is continuing into October. Enjoy every deliciously creepy bit of it  over at Being the Memoirs of Helena Hann-Basquiat, Dilettante, especially the latest installment, The Truth Will Out.

The OneRing.Net challenges you – if you like this sort of fan-fiction thing – to re-write Tolkien as Poe. It’s potentially terrifying (in many ways) and equally fitting for October.

Are you not entertained?

When is a cliché a trope, a standard, a time-honored tradition? Charles Yallowitz looks for answers to that question at the Legends of Windemere: One Man’s Cliché is Another Man’s Entertainment.

Speaking of words and entertainment, WordCloud Wednesday is one of A’s favorite things. Check out this week’s offering at wePoets Show It. 

Honorable Mentions

A: Because apparently a week cannot go by without me mentioning The Hobbit, cast your hearts, minds and soul on the latest trailer for The Hobbit: Desolation of Smaug. TC has already declared that sushi and The Hobbit will be acceptable for his birthday celebrations. I can’t think of a better way to turn 13 than with dragons.

Because Smaug is awesome.

D:  What she means is that the voice distorter on Mr. Cumberbatch is awesome, but you know, that’s just me.

A: Jealous.

D: Jealous?! Me? Of a dragon. Voiced by a man. Voiced by a tall, gangly English man.

A: Yeah. Of a dragon.  Of Sherlock. Of Kha-freakin-an. Jealous.

D: And with that, we will end our tale-telling. I hope you visit our dear friends and enjoy what you see. But most importantly, you have my deepest regards for visiting with us here at the D/A Dialogues.

Lamenting Warrior seeks lyrically-minded storyteller, details within

D: A . . . A, I don’t quite know what to say.

A: Oh boy, here we go –

D: It’s just that you complained so bitterly. And really you just don’t have a poetic soul. How I ever landed in your mind is a mystery. I mean, sure you’re Irish, but you’re not even maudlin about it. Must be these warm Midwestern summers.

A: Is this you not knowing what to say? Really?

D: The words I’m looking for don’t come easy, A. I’m talking about the poem you wrote for the Community Storyboard, the one for this week’s prompt on angst and longing. I . . . I knew you could do it.

A: You did? Um . . . . Well – thank you, D. Of course, I think you had something to do with it. Angst and longing are rather your department.

D: And here I was trying to be complimentary.

A: And I’m not being disparaging – you have to admit that an epic life comes with some angst. Longing. Pain.

D: All right, you can stop now. I get it.

A: So you really liked it?

D: Don’t fish, woman.

A: Well, it was worth a try. Thanks, D. Stay tuned for Mairead’s version.

D: Mairead?! Wait, A – I don’t think this is such a good idea! I’m not ready!

A: I’m sorry D, I think you’re cutting out. I must be entering a canyon or something – see ya, D!

D: A! We are not on cell phones. I’m right here! A? A? Where’d you go?!

Photo courtesy Google Images
Photo courtesy Google Images

Warrior’s Lament

(Originally posted on The Community Storyboard)

Mists of time creep by

Filling my senses

And dulling my pain.

I hope.

Once you did love me

A promise you gave

For your kiss, I longed.

I dream.

The burden of honor

The call of my clan

Did tear us apart.

I fight.

Brothers surround me

But always alone

Mired in treachery.

I rage.

Though victory was ours

Too few did return

I was lost to you then.

I weep.

I left to wander

To court jealous gods

History, myth and legend.

I live.

One day I’ll return

Old hurts forgotten

I will hold you and whisper,

My love.

 A Explains the Tale

In writing the draft of Book 1, I “discovered” that there was a very old ballad (or rather, a lyrical oral story) that told the story of a warrior prince and his lost-love. It’s referenced throughout the last half and parts of it are even recited (although, at the moment it looks more like “put pretty words here”). Essentially, “The Ballad of Dubhshíth and Mairead” is a hand-me-down historical clue to D’s life.

Since I have no idea how to write a ballad, let alone compose lyrically-pleasing prose in Irish/Pict/Scot oral storytelling form, I was concerned. Concerned, but really determined to twist my brain around something resembling poetry. I did a small amount of research – more of which is needed – but really, the “Angst and Longing” prompt at the CSB came at the perfect moment.

My brain, and maybe a bit of D’s heart, tossed enough words on the page to make four poems that will make up a compendium of sources for the ballad.The ballad itself will tell the tale of D’s first life – his very own historical record. Realistically, I only need a few lines lifted from the ballad itself and the tone of “Mairead’s Song” (debuting later this week . . . maybe) to make Book 1 work, but I want it all. I want it to function almost as though it were one of the many research books I keep on my desk. I like to think of it as another way to gain insight into a temperament and personality that, 9 times out of 10, remains a mystery to me.

D: So you admit that you don’t give me my due.

A: I didn’t say—

D: Admit it.

A: No.

D: A!

A: Fine. I’ll admit it, if you admit that my head isn’t an empty wasteland compared to what Your Magnificence has come to expect.

D: So we’re agreeing to disagree then, hm? All right. I can work with that.

A: (Sigh). Cheers, D.

The Rome Construction Crew and the Birth of the Internet

The Rome Construction Crew and the Birth of the Internet

I love cats. I love cat memes. But really, I think “I can Haz a Cheezeburger” killed the internet. Find out how the Rome Construction Crew brought the internet back!

(Go on, click – it has a cute cat picture!)

The Rome Construction Crew – Phoenix Rising!

The Rome Construction Crew – Phoenix Rising!

The Rome Construction Crew was reborn today! Way to go, Crew – you were the best thing to happen to this blogger!

My Name is D, Part 4: Just Like a Spider

Just like a spider

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

From Part 2: You Ain’t Seen Nothin’ Like A . . . I know I’ll have to go after Mr. D, just to make sure he don’t get himself into any more trouble. That boy and trouble is like bread and butter. And if that Someone Else is as bad as I reckon he is, then trouble is just around the corner. But I don’t mind. I say bring it on.

Because let me tell you, Sweet Cheeks, you ain’t seen nothin’ like A.

Image courtesy Google Images
Image courtesy Google Images

Here I am, lookin’ at ol’ Ronnie Johnson, and damn if I ain’t got a problem.

Damn fool gave his ol’ Buick to Mr. D. Gave it to him, like Mr. D was the Second Coming and needed a ride outta Dodge to pick up all those who were gonna sit at His right hand.

I took a moment to let this sink in. Ronnie tried to slink away, but I pinned him to the dirt with just my eyes. I’m told I got mean green eyes. I don’t know ‘bout that – what I do know is that when I give a man my glare – an’ I mean my best and fiercest glare – he won’t have what it takes to say boo to a goose.

Now, I had a good idea of where Mr. D was headed. There ain’t much out here in the desert and the nearest town – some rinky-dink place called Bald Junction – isn’t even on the damn map. An’ that boy do kinda stand out – all six feet and lean muscle of that boy stand out. So findin’ people who’d seen him wasn’t gonna be hard.

Of course, it woulda been easier if I had been able to put a discreet word out to the ol’ boys in blue that a stolen car was seen headin’ towards that ghost-town wannabe. Then I could have let them circle the wagons and caught Mr. D as he tried to slip through their net.

Because lemme tell you, that boy’s not dumb. He would have slipped through that net, and there I woulda been, sittin’ there waitin’ for him, just like a spiderBut thanks to ol’ Ronnie, I gotta think up another plan.

I says goodbye to ol’ Ronnie and get back into my pickup. The sun was startin’ to get low in the sky, night was creepin’ on in – and at this time of year, it was gonna creep on in quick. I do some of my best thinkin’ at this time of the day. Everything stops, like the day is holdin’ its breath, waitin’ to see what night’s gonna do to it.

I know that feeling.

If Mr. D was headin’ towards Bald Junction, then he was going to find himself up against the Good Ol’ Girls brigade there. There’s more than a few blue-haired ladies that’ll give my boy a run for his money – even as much as he’d love to give them a run for theirs, you know what I mean? Like I said, that boy sure do look nice, but he plays nasty.

So, I’m watchin’ the sun sink lower an’ lower – makin’ the sky as pink as a girl’s first blush – and it dawns on me. It’s a big ol’ thought, all bright and happy even though it meant pokin’ a stick into a vipers nest.

There’s a spit of a town, just beyond Bald Junction, called Leeds – named after some fancy English that lived there back in the days of the War Between the States. There’s been some rumors of some pretty heavy fellas movin’ in there. Heavy fellas that even the Cartels won’t touch.

Let Mr. D play. I got a few people who’d be more than happy to keep an eye on him. Let him think he got away – that he outsmarted ol’ A – for just a bit more. It would be kinda fun to see what trouble that rustles up. Might be kinda interestin’ to see if that Someone Else really is watchin’ our every move like I think he is.

I gunned the engine on that ol’ pickup and grinned wide enough to split my face ear to ear. Oh yeah, those are gonna be some vipers.

* * *

D: How long are you going to let this go on?

A: As long as it takes.

D: But that’s just it – do you even have an end point, or are we just puppets, tied to the random and whimsical movements of your hands?

A: What’s wrong with whimsical?

D: Druids don’t do whimsical.

A: Don’t you? Haven’t you spent enough time in my head to at least tolerate whimsical?

D: Being in your head has used up my tolerance for whimsy, A.

A: Well then you will be happy to know that I have every intention of writing an outline to see where this story is going.

D: Every intention . . . this does not sound promising.

A: Oi, I started one! What else do you want?!

D: How about a plot arc?

A: It has that . . . somewhere. . . I think.

D:  . . .

A: Oh come on, D. You’re enjoying it. Admit it.

D: Perhaps.

A: Ha! Knew it!

D: I–

A: No, don’t say anything more, D. It’s a beautiful moment. Let’s not ruin it with you speaking.

D: (Sigh)

A: Cheers, D.

Wordled Words

D: Wednesdays are Druid’s Day, A . . . what are you doing?

A: Ignore the woman behind the ‘publish post’ button.

D: Nice try, oh puny and not-so-powerful woman.

A: Fine. I’m trying to expand into that lyrical prose thing. Since it’s just for you, I figured it would be appropriate.

D: Well, since it’s for me. . . wait, are you saying I should be at the end of a barrel?

A: If the poem fits, D. If the poem fits.

For WordCloud Wednesday @ wePoets Show It, based off John W. Howell’s piece, “Talk.” Believe me when I say his piece makes so much more sense than this bit of prose that its WordCloud inspired.

* * *

Tell me the truth,

Said at the head of a cold barrel.

Lies squeeze,

Insisting,

Bleeding.

Undo the latch –

Who knows what whispers spill.

The Druid asks the Questions – Marie Ann Bailey

He flicked black hair from his eyes and straightened his bowtie. He could feel the heat rising from his collar and hoped he wasn’t blushing. Blushing would not be dignified. And he wanted dignity, perhaps even a little presence, when interviewing Marie Ann Bailey, writer and blogger extraordinaire at 1WriteWay.

D: Nothing about that is dignified, A.

A: Well, I’m not the one who wanted to present Marie with a bouquet of flowers.

D: Impossible woman. Is there something wrong with trying to impress a lady? She was gracious enough to allow me to interview her, again. Sheesh. Some people.

Without further ado (or interruptions from A), please welcome Marie Ann Bailey.

marie ann baileyD: Give those who may not know about your series, The Widows Club, a quick snapshot:

M: The series is about three cousins who grew up together, went slightly separate ways when they married, and then regrouped when all three become widows.  And all three cousins are in dire financial straits with few marketable skills, so they get the idea to set up their own private investigation business.  The business leads them into interesting but dangerous adventures such as kidnapping and murder.

D: By the way, how is Brittany? She and I met briefly, if I recall. I hope the poor girl makes it.

M: Well, I would be giving it away if I told you, D. Let’s just say, at this point in the draft, she survives, but barely 🙂

D: Oh, I forgot about A’s favorite word: Spoilers. Of course – and thank you for the update. I shall continue to hope for her.

D: How did you meet the lovely Mary, Melissa and Maggie? Have you known them all your life, or did they knock down your door, demanding to be written?

They gave me insomnia, to be honest.  The thing is, I do have a lot of cousins and many of us are close in age so we spent a lot of time together when we were growing up.  I’ve always been kind of fascinated by the difference between the relationships one has with their families and their friends.  One of my cousins often said, “You can choose your friends, but you can’t choose your relatives.”  Lovely sentiment, don’t you think?  Anyway, one night I couldn’t sleep because these three women kept popping into my head.  I got up and wrote a page or two, and then the next I knew it was October 31 and I had decided to participate in NaNoWriMo.  I took those two pages and ran with it … whatever “it” is.

D: I think “it” sounds fantastic so far. I’m looking forward to A reading it someday soon!

D: I have it on good authority that you are indeed the Great Cat Rescuer: how many and do they all get along? Any cuddly stories for the cat fanciers out there (you know who you are)?

M: Do you like cats, D?  I imagine you as more of a timber wolf kind of guy 🙂

D: Ah, timber wolves, wolfhounds and mastiffs . . . those are my kind of animals, but cats do have their uses, I suppose.

M: Right now we have four cats, which is the most we’ve ever had indoors.  Two of the cats, though, Maxine and Junior are indoor/outdoor because they do stay close to the house and it helps the dynamics if they are not indoors 24/7.  Maxine is a b**ch because she wants to be the “only kitty” and doesn’t really like to share.  She’s not above tormenting the old lady (Luisa).  She tries to give Junior a wide berth because he enjoys beating up on her.

The good news is our most recent “rescue”, Wendy, is generally getting along with everyone now.  We think Wendy has a crush on Junior, the only male of the bunch.  He’s quite rambunctious and likes to play and run around.  The last few nights they’ve taken to running up and down our hallway for several minutes.  You know, right when we’re ready to go to sleep.  That’s when they like to play.  As soon as lights are out.  It makes me feel very old, like Wendy is our late-in-life child.

D: I can relate – A makes me feel like that sometimes. Speaking of which, do you have a least favorite character within your series – or any other novel-in-progress?

M: I’m struggling with Melissa, one of the cousins.  I’ve become very fond of Maggie and Mary, but Melissa is turning out to be a challenge.  All three women have their flaws of course.  Maggie is a bit too reticent and trusting.  Mary is headstrong and acts before she thinks.  But Melissa has some issues with her cousins that frustrate me.  She has some deep-seated issues stemming from childhood that are only now starting to surface and create rifts between her and her cousins.  The upside is that their conflicts drive some of the plots in the series; the downside is I have to keep my eye on Melissa, try to make sure she doesn’t go off the deep end and ruin everything (as in, I will no longer have a story to tell).

D: Following on that, do you have any methods you use to keep troublesome characters in line?

M: Well, to be honest, D, I was thinking of asking A how she keeps you in line.  Wait, not that I mean you are troublesome!  Please don’t scowl at me, D.  It makes you look your age.  No, let’s just say you are very independent.

Anyway, it’s still a mystery to me how to control a character who starts developing issues, like Melissa.  I don’t want her to ruin the relationship with her cousins because then their story would end.  But she needs to work through what is bugging her.  I’m hoping we resolve things in the third novel.  It’s almost like I have to be her counselor and try to nudge her toward making better decisions.  Easier said than done, though.

A: It is rather like being a counselor . . . and ‘independent’ is a good – much nicer than I would use – word for D. Of course, I do let him get away with anything, within reason. Later, I kill the darlings when he’s not looking.

D: A! How could you?

A: (Shrug).

D: Well, I never . . . Marie, If you were to find yourself alone in the world as your characters in The Widow’s Club are, how would you face that challenge?

M: Oh, dear, if you mean, if I found myself as a widow?  I hate to admit that it’s crossed my mind and perhaps to some extent, that’s why all three women are widows.  My husband is several years older than me and statistically . . . (D, I know you think you’re an exception, but you do just exist in A’s mind) . . . Anyway, some of my female friends and I have discussed the possibility of moving in together if we should become widowed. Although I doubt that any of us would want to start a private investigation business.  Actually, Maggie and Melissa don’t like the PI business.  Just Mary does.  She’s nosy.

D: Nothing wrong with nosy – I would have very little to do if A weren’t a bit of a nosy madam herself. Speaking of nosey, A’s friend once knit her a nose warmer. Are all knitters mad or is it just A? What has been your favorite piece to knit?

M: What? Knitters aren’t mad.  Hatters are mad.  I imagine that where A lives, a nose warmer would be a nice thing to have.  For a while, I was knitting a lot of socks. I learned how to knit two at a time, toe-up, and made a few.  I made my husband a pair of wool knee socks that have Aran cables on the sides.  Those were fun.  I want to knit more socks, but right now I’m knitting a shawl.  Shawls are my next favorite things to knit.    I pretty much like to knit anything I don’t have to sew together.

D: You are a huge advocate for NaNoWriMo – any plans for November? Do you have any future stories you’d like to share?

M: I love NaNoWriMo!  Thanks to last November’s challenge, and the camps in April and July, I now have three (poorly written) first drafts for my series.  I will be participating again this November.  I’m not sure what I will do, but I’d like to write another horror novel.  My very first NaNoWriMo was in 2007 and that was a horror novel, and my very first novel actually. The first two chapters of it received the Featured Post badge from the Community Storyboard.  I hadn’t looked at the novel in so long; now I’m thinking of editing it to see if I can make something more of it.  But in November, I’ll have to come up with something else.  Unfortunately, I’m a pantser so I probably won’t know what I’m doing until I start doing it 😉

D: You are a versatile writer – as your blog, and your work on the Community Storyboard proves – do you find that helpful overall when writing a series, or can it be a distraction?

M: Why thank you for saying I’m versatile, D. I’ve never really thought about it before. Aside from the wonderful community of bloggers and the Community Storyboard, all this writing is helpful because it gets me to write.  The more I write, the quicker ideas come to me, the faster I write, the more productive I am.  Before my blog, I could go for long periods without writing.  And actually I was fairly convinced that I didn’t have it in me to be a writer.  Blogging has changed all that.

The only distraction now is just trying to keep up with everyone else who blogs. I could spend days and days just reading other blogs.  There is so much good stuff out here!  And that’s why it’s really great that you are doing these interviews, D.  You need to get out A’s head now and then (and give her a break).

D: A break?! The woman takes enough breaks. She needs to work harder! Do more!

A: D? Come back, D. Your dictatorial tendencies are showing.

D: Oh dear, I don’t know where that came from. Anyway, continuing on your versatility, is there any genre that you would love to explore more? Why?

M: I would like to explore writing a memoir.  I have a very poor memory of my childhood, which may be a blessing, but I still want to write what I remember of it and of the people in my life.  I think writing a memoir could be cathartic in a way that writing fiction is not, even though a memoir may border on fiction.  It would be a way for me to preserve the memory of people I’ve known, people who should not be forgotten.

D: Say, how is Mary doing? Do you think she’s really ready for commitment with that ‘old friend?’ Don’t you think she could spice up her life with a little Druid love? Please?

M: Hmmm … Druid Love.  Sounds like a good name for a rock band.  Tell you what, D.  Mary is … well, has become intimate with her old friend, but that doesn’t mean you two can’t have a date together.  I know she would find you very interesting … and her late husband was quite a bit older than her so, you know, she likes older guys.  Have a talk with A.  Maybe she’ll let you out for an evening.  And thanks for the interview.  You were quite (surprisingly) the gentleman.

D: And you madam, are ever the treat to have on this space. Thank you for gracing it again and chatting with me.

A: Yes, thank you Marie for giving D another chance! It was such a pleasure to have you here! And PS: I love that you knit Aran cables on socks – they sound really cute! Now everyone, go check out 1WriteWay, Marie’s blog! You won’t be sorry!