7 Bullet Friday – Bringin’ ’em back

by D.M. SessousJune 30, 2017June 30, 2017

Blogging Update: My life got a bit busy over the past year and my Butterfly-of-the-Week project fell into the abyss of my to-do list. So sad… The good news is, my overall schedule is feeling more open now and I’m pleased to report the butterflies are coming back. I’ve included a few of my favorites from earlier posts below. This weekly post was born from the CreativeSprint project based on the Skull-A-Day book(s) by Noah Scalin. I’ve participated in two of the 30-day CreativeSprint challenges and plan to join the October challenge this year. Using Noah’s book,”365: A Daily Creativity Journal: Make Something Every Day and Change Your Life!” I’ll choose a prompt, give it a butterfly theme and post it weekly. For the majority of the prompts I plan to use Photoshop to keep developing those skills, but there may be an occasional “real life” project.
What I’m reading this week: I finished Age of Myth: Book One of the Legends of the First Empire by Michael J. Sullivan on Tuesday. I have to say, I’m looking forward to the rest of the series. The second book, Age of Swords will be released later this month and the third may not be released until next year, so I should probably pace myself a bit. The story was well written and narrated. The author painted a vivid picture without getting bogged down in the minutia of detail or repetition. Having multiple points of view afforded a person or place to be described by new eyes noticing different details which gave me a fuller appreciation of places and people. The story lines and plots were woven expertly together and I was treated to an unexpected twist at the end as a hook into the next novel.
My favorite dream interpretation this week:
Chocolate:
If the dream is positive – such as enjoying some chocolates with a friend or lover – then this is a symbol for happiness and contentment. If, however, you dream of a stomach ache or toothache resulting from eating chocolate, you need to curb overindulgence in foods of any kind.
My favorite Abraham quote this week:
“Matter is the evolution of energy. First there is thought, then there is thought form, and then there is matter. Matter is only thought that has been thought upon by more.
Expectation is a focus with a vibration that permits the receiving of what you’re focused upon—and, you expect things, both wanted and unwanted.” —Abraham
To learn more about Abraham (channeled by Esther Hicks), the Law of Attraction, or to sign up for Abraham’s daily quote visit: http://www.abraham-hicks.com/lawofattractionsource/index.php
My favorite writing prompt this week:
“You are a psychologist in a session with a patient. Halfway through it, you realize it is you from the future.”
My favorite writing quote this week:
“Don’t say it was delightful; make us say delightful when we’ve read the description. You see, all those words (horrifying, wonderful, hideous, exquisite) are only like saying to your readers, Please will you do the job for me?” –C.S. Lewis
My favorite from the inter-webs: Are you having trouble finding interesting creatures for your fantasy novel (or perhaps ideas for alien creatures if you’re writing SciFi)? Well, if you want inspiration beyond dragon, gnome, fairy and elf, check out this list on Wikipedia. List list covers creatures from several different mythologies and cultural legends. Unfortunately, scant few link to illustrations or deeper descriptions. But, if you Google “images of a ___,” you’ll get some interesting artist interpretations that you can use to further fuel your own imagination.
Check it out at: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Book_of_Imaginary_Beings

Honey/Sheahanna/Chicory, a three-perspectives short story

by D.M. SessousJune 26, 2017June 23, 2017

Honey

Early fall sunshine streamed through the window. I sat tucked in my favorite niche, a window seat built into a dormer in a spare bedroom turned library. My feet were heavy blocks of ice despite the unseasonably warm day and thick wool socks. I angled myself so I could I sit cross-legged and wrapped a fleece throw around my legs.

The house had settled into a comfortable silence with Jim away for a weekend work-retreat. He’d offered to take me, almost winning me over with his, “C’mon Honey, the leaves will be at their peak color,” not to mention his bedroom eyes, but I’d declined. The thought of walking around the resort and the shops alone left a chilly, hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach. I much preferred to be alone and by myself instead of alone and surrounded by strangers.

My cat, Mocha, appeared at the open door and looked in at me, her eyes a piercing green against her dark, mottled tortie coat. She started and trilled a meow as if surprised she didn’t have the entire house to herself. I patted my lap and kissed the air, but she turned away with an aloof twitch of her tail and continued on her rounds.

What am I, chopped liver? I chuckled at my joke. Apparently not. If I were, maybe I’d get a bit of affection from my own cat. I sighed, somewhere between a disgruntled huff and wistful exhale, and resigned myself to whiling away the afternoon with the triple-threat combo of romance novel, chocolate and red wine.

My phone chirped, startling me. I looked at the screen. I took a sip of wine, closed my eyes and drew a centering breath.

“Hi Mom.”

“Hi Honey,” she said, drawing out the E. Her voice sounded upbeat, as if surprised that I answered my phone, like getting an unexpected check in the mail. “How are you?”

“Oh, just fine,” I said, keeping my tone bright. I opened my eyes and turned my gaze out the window. There was a soft breeze shifting through the tree branches that created dancing patterns of shadow and sunlight across the yard.

“How’s Jim?” Mom asked.

“He’s good. Busy with work. It’s nice though. I get to have some quiet, alone-time.” I cast a longing glance at my novel splayed open across my knee and the squares of chocolate, wondering if I could unwrap a piece without dropping the phone. I picked one and fumbled at the foil with only my left hand. “How’s Dad?”

“Oh, fine,” her voice trailed off. “He’ll be retiring this year.”

“That’s great! I’m sure he’s looking forward to it.”

“How’s your kitty? What’s her name again?”

“Mocha’s doing fine too, as anti-social as ever. It’s all right though, it keeps me from bringing home another furry friend. It would be nice to have her lie in my lap once. I’ve never had a cat that didn’t like being held before.”

“That’s weird. I can’t keep my animals off me.”

Mocha peeked into the room again and meowed loudly, demanding my attention. I patted my lap again, but she just stood in the doorway staring me down.

“She’s a strange one for sure.” I bit the corner of the chocolate square I had managed to unwrap and set the remainder back in its foil nest. “She seems to like me though. She gives me presents.”

“Oh, like what?”

Mocha meowed again, verging on a yawl. I rolled my eyes and heaved myself out of the window seat. “Mostly voles. But there was a bird, a salamander, and lots and lots of parts. It makes me nostalgic for Biology class.”

“Yuck.”

“Definitely. It was probably my fault.” Mocha led the way down the stairs and to the kitchen. Obedient owner that I was, I followed. “When she left me the first one, I loved on her because I knew it was her way of providing for me.” Mocha looked at her food dish then up at me. She had plenty, so I fingered the dry nuggets in her dish. She sniffed at her food, then made for the front door. Again I followed, suppressing a sigh. I made a mental note that the next home improvement project would be a cat door. “You know, like some remnant of her wild cat heritage where lionesses hunt for the lion and give him the first bite. I thought she was telling me I was the head of her pride. Now I can’t turn it off. I don’t want to punish her for being a cat.”

I began to open the door, Mocha’s nose pressed up to the opening.

“So, I have some news,” Mom said. I froze. My stomach reacted to the cautious tone by churning the wine and chocolate already digesting there into an acidic froth. Mocha wedged her head into the widening threshold, I released my grip on the doorknob and she slipped out.

“Oh?” I prompted. I reeled through all the possibilities: Mom was dying, Dad was dying, Granny had died, Mom and Dad were divorcing, they were bankrupt and needed to move in with me, I was bankrupt and needed to move in with them. “What news?”

“Your cousin Jessica had her baby!” Mom’s voice sounded happy but reserved. I closed the door and turned, leaning my back against it.

“Oh!” I said, relieved no one was dead or dying or bankrupt. Honestly, I’d completely forgotten she was expecting. “I’m happy for her. Boy or girl? Has she picked out a name yet?”

Mom rattled off that it was a girl, her weight and roughly the time she was born, yesterday afternoon sometime. Harley Rose was her name. The family would be getting together next weekend. I felt the unspoken expectation that I be there so I could meet and fawn over my new cousin. And, that’s when it became real.

Suddenly, my throat thickened and my eyes burned with unshed tears. I swallowed a sob like a chunk of grizzled meat. I was happy for Jess, really. But, an oppressive sense of regret welled up inside me like an icy stream trying to break the surface. It wasn’t so much that I had tried to have a baby and failed. It was that I hadn’t tried at all. And now, the opportunity had passed me by. An only child, with no children. The end of the line.

I swallowed against the stickiness in my throat, tasting acid and chocolate and salt. I mourned less for the child I’d never had and more for the experience of being a grandma that my mother would never have. My heart squeezed at the thought that the baby Mom would rock in her arms would not be mine.

She said something, snapping me back to the present and I gasped a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

“What? Oh, no. Next weekend is bad. Jim and I have travel plans,” I lied, hoping I sounded sincere and not too grateful for the fact that I hadn’t told Mom Jim was out of town this weekend. “I’ll send Jess a card. She’s registered at Target, I think, so I’ll tuck a gift card in there too.”

“Do you have her address?” Mom asked, all motherly business now.

“Yes, I’ve got it.”

“Okay then,” she started to say more but a riot of barking cut her off. “Someone just pulled up.”

“No worries, I hear the dog alarm. Go do what you gotta do.”

“Okay, Honey,” Mom sounded rushed. “Call me sometime.”

“Yeah, I’ll talk to you later, give my love to Dad.”

“Okay. Love you.”

“Love you too, bye.” I ended the call and fought the urge to sink to the floor. I stood there for countless moments, my dark thoughts circling like scavenger birds around the festering corpse of the long-ago dream of having children.

I heard Mocha meowing at the door and I sighed. I opened the door and looked down to see her stepping over her fresh kill before slipping inside. I turned to see her walk into the kitchen, the curl of her dark tail the last part of her to disappear.

“Dammit,” I muttered. It was a chipmunk, intact thankfully, laid out like a supplicant on a sisal altar. I set my phone on the entry table and slipped into a pair of Jim’s work boots. I bent down, picking up my welcome mat and its guest as I rose.

I carried the mat to the back yard and stood before the drainage ditch the briefest of moments before flicking the mat and sending the carcass tumbling down. My chin trembled as hot tears rolled down my cheeks. I sucked in deep shaking breaths, forcing emotional composure. I would have to battle those demons at some point, I couldn’t avoid Jess’s baby forever, but I had bought some time to construct my armor. So, for now I would return to my window and smother my sorrows with chocolate and wine.

Sheahanna

Finally outside her den, it took a while for Sheahanna to regain control of her energy. Scratching on a tree trunk helped. With her claws still in the bark of the tree, she pulled a long stretch, easing the last of her tension. It was a relief, especially after a frustrating episode telling the Master to make the opening. The Ground Dweller’s noises had stirred in the depth of her being, waking the instincts of her predatory ancestry which dozed just behind her consciousness.

Sheahanna slipped quietly around the perimeter of her territory, making fresh marks along the way. Members of her former pride had tracked her here and she wanted to make sure they knew this was her region.

Soon, she was within sight of the Ground Dwellers’ habitat. She found a suitable vantage point hidden beneath the branches of a shrub. It would not be long now. The Ground Dwellers and Tree Dwellers were busy this time of year when the trees shed their leaves and fruit.

Watching the stone wall, she saw her target emerge, pausing a moment at the entrance of its burrow. Her sharp eyes tracked the Ground Dweller as it darted to the top of the wall and ran along its rim. She followed, creeping slowly, staying low to the ground, careful not to disturb the thick blanket of fallen leaves. Watching her prey forage, Sheahanna’s body stiffened, masking her racing heartbeat and breath. Her muscles coiled and uncoiled. She alternated shifting and planting her feet, preparing for the inevitable chase.

When the Ground Dweller called out its chirping song, she charged. Her instincts took over and her focus sharpened to the fine point of her quarry. She countered every twist, turn and dart. Through a lucky pounce her claws struck home. She seized the opportunity, sinking her teeth deep into its throat and with a sharp twist, snapped its neck.

Sheahanna waited for the last beat of the Ground Dweller’s heart before releasing her death grip. She licked the blood from her lips and preened herself, basking in the glory of her kill. Collecting her trophy, she carried it back to her den. She placed it prominently at the opening and called to the Master, excited to share her most recent prize.

Chicory

It is dark and warm in the borough. Chicory removes the food from his cheek pouches, tucking the morsels beneath the soft nesting. Leaving the nest chamber, he follows the long corridor out to the burrow entrance.

The afternoon sun is bright. He cleans his paws and whiskers while his eyes adjust to the light. It is a happy day. Food is plentiful. It is the time for gathering.

Chicory hears the songs of his clan and answers with his own call. He follows his trail back to his last mark, resuming his search. He sings a territorial song when he locates a new piece of food.

He hears the predator warning song from his winged brothers in the trees, but it is too late. He must evade.

Run! Turn! Dart! Twist! Jump! Spin! Run!

Fear fuels his flight but it also blinds and confuses him.

Pain burns through his hindquarters. Struggling for freedom, he screams.

The jaws of the predator clamp around his throat. The futility of resisting settles in and Chicory surrenders.

In that moment, he is released from his physical body and blends with the consciousness of Earth. From this new perspective, he understands his purpose, though brief, is an important instrument in the symphony of existence. The complex interplay of the flora and fauna – the movement of the land, water, and air on the surface – the rotation of the sphere on its axis – the orbit of the planet around its sun – the movement of the sun around its galaxy’s bright center. From this place of knowing he sees that although his physical life was small and finite, his consciousness is massive and endless. He chooses to live the small life again.

Instantaneously, he is in a warm dark place surrounded by the fluttering of several heartbeats, a seed in a fertile garden, growing, expanding, and waiting patiently to push forth into the light.

***

This short story is based on the prompt to write the same story from three different perspectives. I submitted this to my writers group in December 2010. I revised it and resubmitted to my group again March 2017. What I’ve submitted for this post is culminated from all the feedback I’ve received. If you have any thoughts or comments, I’d love to hear them.

May you face your fears and open your heart for all the world to see. It’s only when we open our hearts that others can be welcomed in.

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7 Bullet Friday – A bit of fun

by D.M. SessousJune 23, 2017June 27, 2017

Pinterest Update: I spend a fair amount of time on Pinterest. In fact, it’s where I gather the writing prompts and writing quotes that I share every week. I also have boards on writing tips/techniques, character development and several boards dedicated to Dragon World and its various dragons. There are lots of other boards too. It seems like every time a new idea strikes me, I’m creating a board for that. So, I thought I’d share a few Dragon World related images from my Pinterest stash.
What I’m reading this week: Age of Myth: Book One of the Legends of the First Empire by Michael J. Sullivan. I’m new to the works of Michael Sullivan and I’m not sure how I found him other than I’m trying to read epic fantasy fiction since I’m writing and epic fantasy. He’s written several novels in this universe and this is the first of the “pre-quels.” So, instead of reading his books from oldest to newest, I thought I’d read them chronologically according to the world. The book was slow to start as there are several POV characters and we needed to get to know them and what they want. Once the story got going though, I have to say I’m enjoying the read. I’m at the mid-point and am finding it hard to put the novel away so I can work. I can only hope my storytelling is half this good.
My favorite dream interpretation this week:
Writing:
1. Dreams of writing letters can mean the need to get in touch with people whom you haven’t spoken with in a while.
2. Dreams of writing novels, plays or stories indicate that there is a creative streak in you that needs an outlet. Many great authors have received inspiration from their dreams.
3. To dream of writing and not knowing what you’re writing is a warning that you may be inadvertently communicating messages to others that they are misinterpreting in an insulting way.
My favorite Abraham quote this week:
“Being in love is so good for you. Often when people are newly in love, things that have been bothering them for a long time get better. Something wonderful is calling the majority of their attention, so they’re holding themselves in a better vibrational place, so the stuff they’ve been wanting all along can now zoom in.” —Abraham
To learn more about Abraham (channeled by Esther Hicks), the Law of Attraction, or to sign up for Abraham’s daily quote visit: http://www.abraham-hicks.com/lawofattractionsource/index.php
My favorite writing prompt this week:
“I know the voices aren’t real, but man do they come up with some great ideas.”
My favorite writing quote this week:
“The beautiful part of writing is that you don’t have to get it right the first time, unlike say, a brain surgeon.” –Robert Cormier
My favorite from the inter-webs: If you’re at the point in your writing journey where you’re ready to look for editors and agents, a fellow writer recommended this site to me. Manuscript Wish List offer advice on their blog, but the crème de la crème is the editors and agents search feature. Hover over the “Find Editors and Agents” tab and choose the “Genre/Name Search.” Here, you can select whether you want an agent or editor, and the genres for both fiction and non-fiction. This narrows the list considerably and you’re guaranteed to have a professional who is looking for the genre you are writing. You still have to go through the list to get the specifics on each person, but it’s more fruitful work.
Check it out at: http://www.manuscriptwishlist.com/

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7 Bullet Friday – What’s goin’ on

by D.M. SessousJune 16, 2017July 26, 2017

Dragon World Update: I’ve been diligently restructuring my first draft and have completed Stage 2 of my storyboard. For those of you that follow the Hero’s Journey, this stage involves the hero’s first steps into the Special World and ends with the Main Goal for the story revealed. To get to this point, I’ve had to define the magic of my Special World (it is fantasy after all) and nail down what it is exactly that my main character has to do and why. How did I get so far along on my first draft without this seemingly vital information you ask? Well, when your characters are hiking through the woods and sharing stories of lore around the campfire, you know that she has to stop the “big bad” and you have ideas about mythic weapons but you haven’t had to mesh them together into a plan of action. Now, I need to develop some monsters and tests of character for her to face as she begins learning her fighting and magic wielding skills, so she (and the story) can move forward.
What I obsessed over this week: Archetypes! From mythological to Jungian, and from Campbell to Tarot, I’ve been obsessing over archetypes. Let’s just say it was about character development. But if I’m honest with myself, it was all about procrastinating. I’ll share a cool website I found in my “Inter-webs” bullet below, but on my Tarot archetypes leg I found this fairy tale story-generating idea using Tarot cards. It’s so inspiring to me, it might turn into a short story over the weekend. Time to dust of a set of cards and have some fun.
My favorite dream interpretation this week:
Coffee:
1. A relationship or some other sort of situation is not what it seems. Try to see it as it really is. Other symbols in the dream may reveal the truth and/or shed light on what you should do.
2. Hot, delicious coffee implies surprising good news on the way, but if the coffee was bitter, it symbolizes disappointment in a friendship.
3. If you were grinding the coffee, success in love and domestic happiness are on the way.
4. Spilled coffee implies setbacks.
My favorite Abraham quote this week:
“Rest seems like a nice contrast to overwhelment, but enthusiasm is always chosen over rest. The only thing that ever makes you tired or bogs you down is resistance.” —Abraham
To learn more about Abraham (channeled by Esther Hicks), the Law of Attraction, or to sign up for Abraham’s daily quote visit: http://www.abraham-hicks.com/lawofattractionsource/index.php
My favorite writing prompt this week:
“Ever since he left she’d been falling apart. It took nearly half an hour each morning to find her foot.”
My favorite writing quote this week:
“A little talent is a good thing to have if you want to be a writer. But the only real requirement is the ability to remember every scar.” –Stephen King
My favorite from the inter-webs: So, back to archetypes… I found this website while I was on the Tarot leg of my archetype-obsession bender. It’s very well laid out with their own “brand” of archetypes that feel a bit Jungian with a few adaptations and additions. There is fun stuff here like an archetype quiz that you can take to see which top three archetypes make up your personality. (If you’re curious, mine is 49% Creative, 29% Caregiving, 29% Spiritual.) But, if you want to tie it into character development, you could do a little method acting and take the quiz on behalf of one of your characters. If you’re interested in the archetypes of Tarot, myth, astrology, movies and more, their search feature will get you there. Or, you can check out the blogs related to the archetype of your choice. Lot’s of interesting stuff here…
Check it out at: http://www.archetypes.com/

7 Bullet Friday – On a roll

by D.M. SessousJune 9, 2017June 9, 2017

Bullet Journal Update: I thought I’d share a couple pics from my new Bullet Journal. I chose the Leuchtturm1917 HardCover Master Slim Notebook A4+ in black with dotted pages. A4 is a bit larger than 8 1/2 x 11 so the back pocket can fit a standard sheet of paper without folding it. So far, I’m doing all right with it. I’m used to a sketchbook size generally but not necessarily for note taking. I’m also trying not to get to “pretty” with it but I can’t help using colored pens. As you can see from the calendar pages below, I’m good at planning, but not so much with tracking…

What I rediscovered this week: Tangrams! It’s a Chinese puzzle game where you create pictures using 7 shapes (5 triangles, 1 square, 1 parallelogram). In my quest for busy-mind games for my smart phone, I found the free TaniZen app. I’ve discovered it’s a little easier than using the physical puzzle pieces as you can move the pieces over the picture shape you’re challenged to match, and the app gives you hints…

My favorite dream interpretation this week:
Shoes:
1. Shabby or worn-out old shoes are a symbol of success, while new shoes warn against overconfidence.
2. If the dreamer is buying shoes, he is embarking on a new journey.
3. A shoemaker at work hints at new opportunities on the horizon.
Astrological parallel: Pisces
Tarot parallel: The Fool
My favorite Abraham quote this week:
“Overwhelment is about you not being up to speed with what you told the Universe that you want. The Universe is yielding to you. You’re just not ready to receive it right now.” —Abraham
To learn more about Abraham (channeled by Esther Hicks), the Law of Attraction, or to sign up for Abraham’s daily quote visit: http://www.abraham-hicks.com/lawofattractionsource/index.php
My favorite writing prompt this week:
“I had never seen a real angel. But in all my many imaginings, I never pictured one with tattoos and blue hair “
My favorite writing quote this week:
“You take people, you put them on a journey, you give them peril, you find out who they really are.” –Joss Whedon
My favorite from the inter-webs: Microsoft Word has been a thorn in my side this week. I’m working with a very large file that has multiple paragraph formatting going on and text wrap around images, etc. In an effort to get Word to “think” less and break paragraphs across pages without adding extra lines, I did a bit of Word research and found these two resources.
MakeOfficeWork basically goes through each function on the Word actions ribbon and all the action window function giving you a down-to-earth description of what each does. Most helpful in forming realistic expectations of what Word can/should do.
Check it out at: http://makeofficework.com/paragraph_formatting.htm
WordRibbon.Tips.net goes into a bit more detail and is project focused. So, if you want to learn how to create a letterhead template, add a background to your document and booklet printing. There is a lot of good information here, but be prepared to wander about a bit (but in a good way).
Check it out at: https://wordribbon.tips.net/index.html

7 Bullet Friday – Holding Steady

by D.M. SessousJune 2, 2017June 2, 2017

Blogging Note: At last night’s Agile Writer’s meeting, I was asked to talk about these 7-Bullet Friday posts. If you’ve been following me for a while, you’ll know that this is relatively new for me. Some weeks have been easy and some have been a struggle, I don’t always have an activity of note or have a writing update. But, I’ve found that this type of “bullet” posting is working for me and I’m posting at least once a week. So, if this idea connects with you, I invite you to steal this from me. If fact, apart from the graphic I created, this is not an original idea. So, feel free to mirror this or make it your own by choosing a different number of bullets or a different day and of course the topics that interest you.
The music I’m loving this week: I stream an independent radio station based in Charlottesville, Virginia – WNRN. They spotlight local and Indie talent and today they had a live studio session featuring Wes Swing. I bought his album “Through a Fogged Glass” a couple years ago and he’s just released a new album called “And the Heart.” What I enjoy most about his music is the cello. Here’s a link to his website and a blurb from his About page from 2013: “Wes Swing is a cellist, singer and multi-instrumentalist from Virginia. His music is best characterized as alt-cello-folk and has been described as Radiohead mixed with classical and “a rich and lilting soundscape”. In live performance, Wes loops his cello and violin, combining layered strings and lyrics imbued with poetry. His musical journey began as a four-year-old violinist, developing an early appreciation for classical music, and finding his true musical love in the cello while at university.”
My favorite dream interpretation this week:
Airplane:
1. Escape from the mundane exigencies of the lower world.
2. Freedom.
3. The search for higher consciousness. Travel into the higher realms.
Astrological parallels: Sagittarius or Aquarius.
Tarot parallel:The World.
My favorite Abraham quote this week:
“For every pleasing thing, there is an unpleasing counterpart, for within every particle of the Universe is that which is wanted as well as the lack of that which is wanted. When you focus upon an unwanted aspect of something in an effort to push it away from you, it only comes closer, because you get what you give your attention to whether it is something that you want or not. It is up to you to focus upon and attract what is wanted.” —Abraham
To learn more about Abraham (channeled by Esther Hicks), the Law of Attraction, or to sign up for Abraham’s daily quote visit: http://www.abraham-hicks.com/lawofattractionsource/index.php
My favorite writing prompt this week:
“These days, daydreamer is a real profession. And it pays well.”
My favorite writing quote this week:
“This is how you do it: you sit down at the keyboard and put one word after another until it’s done. It’s that easy, and that hard.” –Neil Gaiman
My Favorite from the inter-webs: At some point during the world-building for my Dragon World series of epic fantasy novels, I became obsessed with how my characters would banter and insult each other. In that quest, I found this lovely web-page: The Renaissance Faire Forget-Me-Knot. It’s a little out of date now, but because the information is based on Elizabethan times, the fact that it’s been sitting idle for a few years isn’t relevant. What most appealed to me is The Elizabethan Insult and Curses of an Elizabethan Nature page (linked below). There are random insult generators out there, but with this chart you can cherry-pick what works best for you. There are some other good tidbits about oaths, and how folks of that era addressed each other. Overall, it’s fun stuff and I visit when I need a laugh.
Check it out at: http://www.museangel.net/insult.html

7 Bullet Friday – A Bit Behind

by D.M. SessousMay 29, 2017

Writing Update: So, I finally feel like I’m making progress on editing the first draft. If you’re follow The Hero’s Journey at all, I’ve story-boarded the first stage of the Hero’s ordinary world and her crossing the threshold into the special world. Now I need to work out how she meets her band of helpers and her main opposition (a new character from me).
I should also have another short story edited and ready to post in the next week or so. It’s a three-perspective story. I’ve gone a bit off the reservation, so I don’t want to give too much away – yet.
What I’m “reading” this week: I’ve started an urban fantasy novel by Mishell Baker called “Borderline.” It’s book one of the “The Arcadia Project” series. The setting is modern Hollywood with the underlying magic being Fae. Basically, there is a parallel world and all the creatives on Earth have a Fae counterpart. The Fae provide the inspiration and insight and the Earthlings provide the logic and structure. Our heroine is recruited by an agency that polices the gateways between the two realms. Another interesting component is that our heroine is a double amputee (both legs, one above the knee and the other below the knee) and is suffering from borderline personality disorder. So far, and interesting read that is well narrated. I’ll keep you posted.
My favorite dream interpretation this week:
Beard:
1. Dreaming of a full, luxuriant beard on the face of a friendly man can indicate luck ahead.
2. A beard on a woman, however, is an attention-getter, indicating that this dream is an important one and close attention should be paid to the other symbols in the dream.
3. If a man wearing a beard seems unfriendly and ominous, or if the man is also wearing glasses, then someone important to you is hiding something.
My favorite Abraham quote this week:
“The standard of success in life isn’t the things. It isn’t the money or the stuff — it is absolutely the amount of joy you feel.” —Abraham
To learn more about Abraham (channeled by Esther Hicks), the Law of Attraction, or to sign up for Abraham’s daily quote visit: http://www.abraham-hicks.com/lawofattractionsource/index.php
My favorite writing prompt this week:
“The Museum of Vanished Things was open twenty-four hours a day.”
My favorite writing quote this week:
“If you write to impress, it will always be bad. If you write to express, it will always be good.” –Thornton Wilder
My Favorite from the inter-webs: Like it or not, mostly not, grammar is a part of my writing life. Beyond “there, their and they’re,” I’ve questioned my use of capitalization, when to use or omit a hyphen and why we say the things we do. This blog has a bit of everything, from researching the etymology of a phrase such as “fits and starts,” to the usage of ‘they’ to replace ‘he or she,’ to general grammar rules. It’s become my go-to resource. They even have a fun list of dead grammar rules. You’ll go directly there if you click on the link below.
Check it out at: http://www.grammarphobia.com/grammar-html

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7 Bullet Friday – Keeping Busy

by D.M. SessousMay 19, 2017

Salsa Rueda Club of Richmond: So, we’re following up our dance presentation at the Que Pasa Festival with being the opening entertainment at tomorrow’s baseball game! (Richmond is home to the minor league team the Flying Squirrels) And, instead of 3 groups in 30 minutes we’ll be getting one hour. We’ll be performing from 5pm to 6pm as people purchase their tickets and find their seats. We precede the national anthem, so it should be a good crowd. I’m a nervous kind of excited right now but looking forward to it all the same.
Next week’s 7BF will have a recap of the event.
Find more details at: Salsa Rueda Club of Richmond and Salsa Guy Richmond
What I’m “reading” this week: I enjoyed Steelheart by Brandon Sanderson so much I read his sequel Firefight and now I’m starting Calamity. Where Steelheart posed questions about power and what it does to us, Firefight is about trust and overcoming fear. The characters are wonderful and well drawn with the story told in the first person. Needless to say, if I’m gobbling these books up like colorful hippos eating marbles, I find the stories extremely enjoyable.
My favorite dream interpretation this week:
Telephone:
1. Telephone calls from a specific person, living or dead, implies a telepathic message from that person. If the person is living, the dreamer should hear from him or her within a very short time.
2. If the dreamer is making a phone call, she wants to tell someone something but is holding back out of fear.
3. A telephone that is not being used indicates that the dreamer is holding back from making a contact that needs to be made.
Astrological parallel: Mercury/Uranus combinations.
Tarot parallel: The suit of wands.
My favorite Abraham quote this week:
“When you manage to stay connected to your Energy stream, you always win. And you know what, somebody else doesn’t have to lose for you to win. There is always enough.” —Abraham
To learn more about Abraham (channeled by Esther Hicks), the Law of Attraction, or to sign up for Abraham’s daily quote visit: http://www.abraham-hicks.com/lawofattractionsource/index.php
My favorite writing prompt this week:
“Working with shadow was difficult. It was slippery, and my hands always came away damp.”
My favorite writing quote this week:
“Start writing, no matter what. The water does not flow until the faucet is turned on.” –Louis L’Amour
My Favorite from the inter-webs: Have you ever heard a quote and wondered where it came from? Who said it first? Well, this wonderful website has those answers and by the look of things, if you have a quote that they haven’t covered, they may do the research and trace its origins for you. Really interesting stuff here. Prepare to lose yourself for a while.
Check it out at: http://quoteinvestigator.com/

7 Bullet Friday – Biting the Bullet

by D.M. SessousMay 12, 2017

Que Pasa Festival 2017: Que Pasa was a blast! Here are a couple of pics of our Salsa Rueda dance group. By the way, ladies often outnumber the gents, so for our demonstration I danced the leader role. As one of the ladies in our group says, “Denise, you ‘da man!”
Find more details at: Salsa Rueda Club of Richmond and Salsa Guy Richmond
What I’m “reading” this week: I just finished the audio book version of Steelheart by Brandon Sanderson. It’s the first in a series followed by Firefight and Calamity. It’s a story about an ordinary boy named David who has grown up in a world were super heroes (called Epics) are real. But, these men with extraordinary powers are not heroes, they are tyrants and dictators who look upon the rest of humanity as their minions and subjects. In presents an interesting question, does absolute power corrupt absolutely? And, if so, is it possible to find a super-human who is good and wants to fight for freedom and equality? This book has a fun side with our hero appreciating good metaphors because he sucks at them and humorously plausible Epic names like ComFlux, Mitosis, Limelight and Aftershock.
Bullet Journal: I’m biting the bullet and starting a bullet journal, BuJo to the obsessed. My reason for taking this on? I have way too many notebooks. I currently have one for each of my interests: general writing, Dragon World, dreams/inspirations, random thoughts/lists/to-do, and a calendar. I went looking for a way to put everything in one place and still have it organized and I found the Bullet Journal by Ryder Carroll. All you need is a notebook and a pen and you can create everything that you need. Of course, there are those who add color and pictures, brush lettering, etc. The beauty is, you can be as plain or as fancy as you want.
My favorite Abraham quote this week:
“You cannot get sick enough to help sick people get better. You cannot get poor enough to help poor people thrive. It is only in your thriving that you have anything to offer anyone. If you’re wanting to be of an advantage to others, be as tapped in, turned in, turned on as you can possibly be.” —Abraham
To learn more about Abraham (channeled by Esther Hicks), the Law of Attraction, or to sign up for Abraham’s daily quote visit: http://www.abraham-hicks.com/lawofattractionsource/index.php
My favorite writing prompt this week:
“A child is born with an imagination so strong, it leaks into reality.”
My favorite writing quote this week:
“I write to give myself strength. I write to be the characters that I am not. I write to explore all the things that I’m afraid of.” –Joss Wheden
My Favorite from the inter-webs: My week has been chock-full or BuJo research. And even though I’m an artistic person, I’m also very practical. I want a BuJo that will help me be more productive with my writing, my blog and my art. Finding help with creating BuJo spreads that are professionally focused is a challenge. But, then enters ProJounaler, a page dedicated to people who want to track projects without getting too caught up in appearances. Although you can make attractive and colorful spreads, it’s the content that is the focus here, so it’s a ProJo.
Check it out at: https://projournalers.org/ and on Instagram at https://www.instagram.com/projournalers/

Breathing Underwater, a short story

by D.M. SessousMay 6, 2017May 6, 2017

Nicole parked her car in her parent’s drive and killed the engine. Mid-morning sunshine filtered through the trees promising a bright, spring day. There were no other cars and the house was dark, all according to plan. Barring any surprises, she’d have the whole day to herself.

She breathed a sigh of relief. Not that visiting her parents was awful or anything, she just didn’t want to have to explain why she was there. Most of all, she wanted to avoid the barrage of concerned questions, the offer of money they didn’t have, the I-knew-that-art-degree-was-a-mistake lecture, and worst of all the suggestion that she could move back home if she needed to. If her fine art career were really over, she’d wait tables before she’d let that happen. She refused to be the cliché thirty-something that ran home whenever life became too real.

She retrieved her phone and thumbed to the eBook she’d been obsessing over. It guaranteed revitalized creativity if she followed a few simple steps. That’s all she needed, a glint, a flicker of inspiration that she could flame into a new collection to bring to the galleries and get things moving again.

Unfortunately, Nicole’s introverted sensibilities balked at all the ideas so far. Wearing disguises in public and singing Karaoke (no matter how many glasses of Pinot she drank) were too far out of her comfort zone. She didn’t think her creativity could be frightened out of its hibernation. One should coax the sleeping bear out of its den with the promise of honey, not startle it awake with firecrackers.

But, Nicole could and would revisit the places she played as a child. She’d had a powerful imagination growing up, and rekindling that potent force would go a long way to get the paint flowing again.

She packed her notebook, pencils and a bottle of water into her tote bag and stepped out of her car. She locked the car out of habit, tossed her keys into the tote and slung it over her shoulder. Inspiration, here I come.

Thirty minutes or so later, she began to feel the cloying fingers of disappointment brush against her heart. Decades can do a lot to erase the footprints of childhood memories. The tire swing had long ago been taken down from the oak tree in the back yard. Nicole was partly glad, she would’ve been afraid the old rope too rotten to support her weight. The tree-house, or rather the haphazard platform, she’d built within the branches of a grove of crab-apple trees was also gone. She stood there a few moments trying to recapture a glimmer of her childhood adventures.

The sunlight filtering through the leaves cast dancing shadows at her feet. She remembered scraped knees and fingers stained magenta from poke-berries, the bitter taste of crab-apples and the velvet of iris petals. But, the images that swam through her mind were shadows of inspiration, cold and empty.

There was one last place, one last chance to find the spark. She took a swig of water and headed toward the path through the woods she had explored so often in her childhood. Even though her boots had a sturdy heel, Nicole picked her way carefully to avoid the marshy spots in the soil. She had her phone in hand, ready to snap pictures as soon as something worth photographing revealed itself.

Finally, standing by the water’s edge, she surveyed the pond where she’d played as a child. Her shoulders slumped and she slipped her phone back into her bag. It seems so small now.

She hugged her arms around herself. Memories of chasing tadpoles in mud-caked pants floated through her mind. She took in her surroundings. This place where her imagination had played so freely was almost unrecognizable to her now.

What once had been steep slopes to small feet and short legs, were now eroded to gentle rises. Where the woods had been thick and the pond secluded, a nearby housing development could be seen through the trees. The pond itself with all the childhood magic stripped away was nothing more than a square watering hole about the size of a two-car garage.

Bird-song drifted from nearby branches and the sun warmed her face and shoulders. Nicole half sat and half leaned on a large boulder set close to the pond’s edge, and remembered again how enchanting this had been when she was eight. It had been a sheer cliff face by the sea when her dolls joined her on her adventures. To her younger self, they turned to mermaids when she submerged their bodies, their hair flowing in soft clouds with each gentle caress of the water.

She shifted on the boulder and leaned over the water to gaze at her reflection, half expecting to see a mop of tawny, disheveled waves atop a dirt-streaked face. Instead, she saw her adult self, looking older and more haggard than she wished.

Or maybe, coming here to remember her childhood only brought feelings of mourning for the lost joys of her youth. Simple pleasures delivered satisfaction easily, before beliefs in fairies and unicorns were replaced with knowing that the world is difficult and complicated – that magic isn’t real.

Her chest tightened and she gulped down a sob. Nicole wished she could be that little girl again. She wanted the magic back, to lose herself in a world of her creation. Her likeness gazed back at her, darkened eyes and down-turned mouth. This was a waste of time.

She toed small stones into the water and watched the concentric circles spread outward. Her reflection distorted, revealing the shadow of another face behind hers — like a double-exposed photograph, strange yet compelling.

Nicole reached a hand toward the water and the phantom reflection did the same. At the moment her fingers touched the surface, she found herself beneath the water. Sunlight danced on the wavy surface, adding sparks of light to the warped images of treetops, sky and clouds above her. The bottom of the pond below her was hidden in darkness, seeming impossibly deep.

A dragonfly trapped in amber, she hung suspended, holding her breath. When her lungs began to burn, Nicole clawed at the water, frantic to reach the surface. And then, he was in front of her, pulling her to him, holding her still. When her struggling subsided, she realized she could breathe. Underwater.

Logic faded as she marveled at the beautiful creature before her: eyes a sunlit summer sky, skin a polished bronze, and hair that floated about his face in wavy, black locks that glinted in iridescent shades of violet and green. A stranger, but also oddly familiar.

Ribbons of sunlight danced across the striking planes of his face and broad chest. Nicole’s gaze followed the twisting lights down his torso and wondered at his smooth bronze flesh, blending seamlessly into a muscular tail that gleamed in shades of cobalt blue. His tail wasn’t the scaly skin of a fish, but more akin to the sleek flesh of a dolphin. She wanted to touch him, but held back.

She felt clumsy and awkward beside his graceful, streamlined form. Her jeans and shirt clung to her body, wrinkled and bunched from the water pressing in around her.

Nicole felt a pull on her hands and looked up into his face. His kind eyes and warm smile reassured her. She opened her mouth to ask his name but underwater she couldn’t make a sound. She tried to return the warmth of his smile and wondered if he could tell she was blushing.

His expression changed, questioning. Do you trust me? He seemed to ask. She nodded and squeezed his hand in response.

He pulled her close, angling her body against his side. Keeping one of her hands in his, he wrapped his free arm around her middle. She rested her arm along his and clasped the strong hand-held out slightly in front of them. And then they were swimming. Or at least he was swimming and she a parcel carried beside him. Leading her this way, she thought they might look like a pair of ballroom dancers gliding across a polished floor.

The sunlight faded away as they dove into the darkness. Nicole noticed a warm light ahead, as if a fire burned in a faraway hearth, glowing warmer and brighter as they approached. Nearing, she could see that the light emanated from the opening of a cave.

They entered, plunging Nicole into a new world of light, filled with colors so vibrant her eyes widened in awe. A vast expanse of rolling hills stretched out before her, covered with moss-like grasses that flowed like languid ocean waves in hues ranging from yellow-green to teal. Thick clusters of slender trees reminiscent of van Gogh’s cypresses fringed the meadow, undulating like belly dancers -– at some moments appearing blue and green and at others violet.

Contrasting against the vegetation, the cavern walls were swirls of robust garnet at the base, through orange, to gold in the heights before blending into the warm glow of light streaming in from some inexplicable source.

So much color… What is this place? Nicole thought, her gaze slowly wandering back to her host.

Looking into her eyes, he placed their still joined hands over his heart. Home, he replied.

Her surprise at this unspoken communication lasted only a moment. She surrendered to the magic of this man and allowed the beauty of this place to envelop her.

Nicole suddenly recognized her surroundings as if she’d never left. She remembered swimming through the fields, the mossy fronds tickling her face and arms, playing hide-and-seek among the dancing trees — with him. He had been much younger then, of course, matching her age every time she visited. And, she had come to this place often.

Nicole flung her arms around her long-lost friend. He returned the hug and as they pulled away he reached behind her head and pulled away the clip that secured her hair. Curling tendrils floated around her face and shoulders, shimmering in shades of gold.

Nicole spun away from him, feeling light and graceful as she twirled suspended, weightless. She swam to the meadow, touching the silky fronds and wondering at their iridescence. He swam up beside her, and taking her hand they swan over the meadow. Together they barrel-rolled and flipped and circled the wavy trees.

Breathless, they floated over the meadow grasses once again. Nicole looked around at this magical cave, her mind hungry to memorize all the colors and the shapes of every leaf and swirl. She turned her attention to the man resting beside her, gazing into his sky-blue eyes.

Thank you.

He brushed her cheek with the backs of his fingers. Instinctively, she tipped her face toward his caress. He cupped the back of her head as he captured her mouth with his. Heat from his body washed over her, curling her toes.

Nicole wanted to lose herself in his warmth. She didn’t want this adventure to end. She didn’t want to leave this man, this beautiful creature she had long ago decided couldn’t exist. He was here, she could feel him. He was real. Her feelings were real. Magic was real again.

He gathered her close to him, kissing her, caressing her. It filled her with longing to the point she thought she might catch fire. He held her tighter, the kiss deepened. She tangled her fingers into the locks of his hair. They twisted, spiraling weightless.

Their embrace continued a slow spiral, and she could feel they were rising. Nicole sensed through her eyelids the space around her brightening. They rose faster, the light above them becoming stronger, harsher. She squeezed her eyes tight against the intensity.

Their ascent slowed and their kisses became gentler, their embrace softened and relaxed into a loose hug. Lastly, their mouths separated and Nicole opened her eyes, squinting against the light.

She looked at her beautiful merman, sorrow casting a grey cloud across his sky-blue eyes, a bittersweet smile curving his lips. She felt the pull of her world like gravity and she gave him one last kiss as she floated up as he drifted down. Her fingertips brushed along the contours of his arms as they slid from around her. His lips brushed the back of her hand just before she slipped entirely from his grasp.

Fighting to reach him, she clawed at the water and churned with her feet. She made no progress and could only watch as he faded into the darkness below. When he vanished completely, she surrendered and the light consumed her.

Nicole blinked away the glare from the sunlight dancing on the water. The world had returned to dreary normalcy. Even though the sun shone warm on her shoulders, the world felt cold and harsh. The hard boulder beneath her made her bottom ache.

A gentle breeze played through her loose hair and a wavy tendril caught her eye. She reached up and let the curl play through her fingers. Nicole looked out over the glistening pond. She brushed fingertips across her lips and could still feel the lingering heat of his kiss.

When she closed her eyes, the memories of the cave burst in her mind like technicolor fireworks. She scrambled to rummage through her tote for her pad and pencils while the memories were still fresh.

Behind her, a man cleared his throat. Startled, Nicole stood and turned, almost losing her balance.

“Pardon me, ma’am,” he said, a slight twang coloring his words. “This is private property.”

“Oh,” she gasped, placing a hand over her thumping heart. “I’m sorry, I was just visiting. I’ll go now.”

Recognition flickered across his face and a corner of his mouth quirked. “Nikki?” he asked. “Nicole Sinclair?”

“Yes?” Nicole searched his face and the smirk became a crooked smile that glinted mischievous sparks in his eyes. Then, she knew him.

“Ricky Ryan.” The name came out with an accusatory tone she hadn’t intended. She crossed her arms and huffed, slightly embarrassed.

“It’s Rick nowadays. I’m all grown up, now.”

Yes. Nicole looked him over. He was a far cry from the scrawny boy who’d played with her around this pond. She’d enjoyed his company until he’d found more pleasure in pulling her hair, chasing after her with twigs he claimed were poison ivy and tossing her dolls into the center of the pond.

Now, Rick, tall and strong, stood before her in dark jeans that were tight enough to show he had muscled legs and lean hips, but loose enough to keep other details a mystery. His work boots were worn but not ragged and he wore an untucked plaid shirt over a clean white t-shirt.

“It’s been ages,” he said. He scrubbed a hand through his dark hair leaving it sticking up at crazy angles. “How would it be if we got together later to catch up?”

Nicole hesitated. She looked around at her small pond, her hands twitched at the thought of sketching out her ideas. She turned back to meet his gaze, determined to turn him down. But, when she looked into his eyes her breath caught. They were the bright, clear blue of a sunlit summer sky.

“Coffee at Hale’s?” he asked, stuffing his hands into his jeans pockets.

“I don’t know,” she said, drawing out her hesitation. “You used to pull my hair.”

“I’ll throw in peach cobbler,” he offered, taking a cautious step forward.

She stood and met his gaze without flinching. “You used to call me ‘Nikki, Nikki. Stinky, sticky.’ and then, tried to dunk me in this very pond.” She pouted her lower lip.

“With ice cream,” Rick said, his lips curving up. He took another step closer.

“Okay,” she said, in a reluctant tone. “But, you still owe me.”

“Do you have a lay-a-way plan?” He asked, closing the last of the distance between them.

“Maybe,” Nicole said. “How’s your credit?”

“Unlimited.”

He held out his hand to her and she took it. Electricity tingled up her spine.
***This is a short story based on a poem I created in high school that is forever lost. I rewrote the idea as a short story and submitted it to my writers group in February 2013. I revised it and resubmitted to my group again February 2017. What I’ve submitted for this post is culminated from all the feedback I’ve received. If you have any thoughts or comments, I’d love to hear them.

May you reconnect with the imagination of your youth and enjoy the journey to your heart’s desire!

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