writing

Davey’s Birth Story

This is my second child’s birth story.

Ever since the beginning she has been compared to her older sister. Before she was born, we already knew it was not going to be a natural birth, like her older sister, but a c-section. Davey was very comfortable in a (breached) seated position, so we scheduled a c-section five days before her due date.

It started happening the weekend before her scheduled delivery, but I lost the ability to lift my left leg. It seemed like she was sitting just right, on my nerves. Randy would help me walk around the house, up and down the stairs when needed, and when he wheeled me into the hospital in a wheelchair, the doctor said, “last time I saw you, you were walking.” 

Which was true. So as the nurses were hooking me up to IV’s and taking my vitals, the doctor explained how my nerves are a risk and we should not take the chance with an epidural c-section, where I would stay awake and Randy would be present. Instead, they will put me under general anesthesia and deliver the baby in a surgical room, where Randy will not be present.

Our so-called birth plan was turned upside down. I had no vision of what a delivery like that would be. I never thought that I would be “put under anesthesia” for a delivery. And, Randy cannot be there? He was so excited to be present, and see my intestines, but also be there for the birth of the baby, just like he was for her older sister.

I went through a wave of emotions and tears, all while they continued to prep me for surgery. I had to be alright with this new birth plan. I had to be ok that I was not getting an epidural, and I had to be understanding that Randy would not be there.

I remember saying goodbye to Randy in the hallway, and wheeling through surgery doors to a very cold, clean room. A nurse was hovering above my head and talking to me as she counted down to the time for anesthesia. Then…

Davey Juliette was born on January 16, 2019 at 11:49am, weighing 7lbs 12 oz and measuring 21 inches.

When I woke up, I heard crying and slowly thought, “that must be my baby.” I was handed Davey, and I held onto her tightly. The tense feeling of pain in my abdomen was constant. Every muscle connected to my core was tight. As they wheeled me out, Randy was in the hallway, and we returned back to our hospital room. The nurses were getting me set up and I kept trying to tell Randy, “I feel tense” but I couldn’t get words out. “This is intense?” he asked me.

Frustration and pain were starting to set in, until they got the pain medication started. Our parents and oldest daughter were all patiently in the waiting room, but we weren’t allowed to have visitors come in yet because they wouldn’t be able to hold the baby.  I was instructed to keep holding her.

I knew that my Dad was in the waiting room, and he had to get on the road for work. I felt very strongly about wanting to see him, so they allowed him in. Having his calming presence and beaming love right there with baby Davey and I was the reassurance I needed. Holding my Dad’s hand that day is one of my stronger memories, and even though he wasn’t able to hold his granddaughter, he truly held his daughter in that moment.

The pain medication carried me through the hospital stay, so I remember who visited me but I don’t remember much about the conversation. Pretty quickly after Davey was born, the nerve issues with my leg went away, so everything happened as it was meant to.

Davey’s birth story seemed to happen not according to plan, but it was all Davey’s plan. Today I can say it’s truly Davey’s way or no-way as she is about to turn two years old in a few days. 

I’ve put off writing her birth story because compared to her older sister, I didn’t think there was much to actually write about. But bringing the memories to life that I do have, is still just as important because this is only the beginning of baby Davey’s story.

Read her older sister’s birth story HERE.

writing

The Sunflower Journals

As I grew sunflowers…
I learned lessons,
I grew in patience and gratitude.
These are my 2020 Sunflower Journal entries.

The broken sunflower.

Snapped, or something.
In an instant—gone.
Nowhere to be seen.
And it won’t grow back,
so I’m forced to say goodbye.

The sunflower sisters.

Growing together,
in the same soil.
Under the same sun,
they look over each other
always and forever.
This love story is true—
sisters won’t stray
from their roots.

The Older One

She grew taller, faster.
She always loomed over you,
and then she bloomed first.

Continue reading “The Sunflower Journals”
writing

Character Desire

As I aspire to develop my characters further and write more words in my novel, I took the time to develop each character’s desire. That has shown to be a driving force in creating conflict, so it has proven to be helpful as I try to continue writing all the words.

Here are some of my notes from the online course Craft of Character that have helped me develop character desire:

Every writer should aspire to create characters that have their own desires–your character wants something. Our flaws are often driven by what it is that we desire most, and that makes a memorable character.

It’s important to give yourself permission to approach your characters and your story in as wide of range as possible. Use the character’s voice to explain desires–what are they? This will help you make the character matter to the reader.

Desires may lead to character conflict. If you’re stuck in a story, just have another character walk into the room. Create conflict–something uncomfortable, difficult, or incredibly intimate.

It’s important to craft your characters in such a way that they have distinct voices that the reader can identify, to help identify the story. Whose story is it? Whose desire is driving the story?

Read more about my Main Characters HERE
Read more about my Men Characters HERE

writing

Character Sketch

Start Writing Fiction | Week 5

Character Sketch Assignment: Choose one of the methods below, one which is least familiar to you, one you have never tried before:

  • Imagine a character very like you but give them a dramatic external alteration. You might make the character the opposite sex, for example, or make them significantly older or younger. You choose.
  • Imagine a character very like someone you have observed – but give them a dramatic external alteration. You might make the character the opposite sex, for example, or make them significantly older or younger. You choose.
  • Create a character purely on the basis of your imagination or intellectual conception.
  • Create a character using any of the above methods in combination.

Now write a brief character sketch, around 300–500 words, in which you reveal certain aspects of the character. Use a third-person narrator (‘he’ or ‘she’). Here are some things you might like to include in your sketch but this is not an exclusive list – you may not include all of these aspects; you may include other aspects:
appearance
feelings
current circumstances
occupation
voice
attitudes
hopes and fears

Read the assignment I wrote, below, then read the feedback I received from fellow writers.

Mr. Smith stood there with his thumbs in his belt loops and tips of his fingers in his pockets; the dark colored belt stood out against his light khaki pants. His khakis were pulled up so high, maybe it was an attempt to cover up his mid-30’s belly, but the tightly tucked-in white button-up shirt did not hide much.

He lifted his left hand to his big, round glasses and pushed them up on his long nose. He wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. I wonder how he got to be so nerdy? There’s no way he has a girlfriend…

Mr. Smith turned with his side-hair slick staying in place and spoke to me in front of the class:

“Mia! Stop daydreaming and finish the reading quiz. You have 15 minutes until the end of class!”

He stormed across the front of the classroom with his hands in his pockets and plopped into his desk chair. A few students snickered at the disruption and a few giggled at the teacher making a scene.

I felt embarrassed by his reaction. So, once my cheek color turned back to normal, I promptly finished the reading quiz.

When the bell rang, I was the last one to drop the quiz off at his desk. He tilted his head down and looked over his glasses at me. “Is there a reason you are distracted today?” He asked in that fatherly tone.

“Why are you so concerned about me? Why not someone else?” 

“Because you’re my best student,” he smiled, reclined back in his seat and slid his hands behind his head, “I expect a lot from you and when I see you daydreaming I’m only trying to help.”

“I’ve had a difficult time…”

He forcefully pulled his arms down and sat up, “I get it. I’ve seen it in your writing lately,” he picked up a pen and started twirling it between his fingers, “I wanted to tell you about the high school literary journal. I think you should submit something—it can be anonymous if you choose.”

I stood in front of his desk which was a messy disarray of papers, and just held tightly onto my journal, “you mean get published?”

“Yes. Not many freshmen do it, so I think you would stand out.” He paused and stood up. “I see you write a lot about your mother. I was the same way.”

I stood there like a sponge, soaking in what he was saying, but I couldn’t believe he was being so candid with me. “I, uh—“ was then abruptly saved by the one minute warning bell.

“Go along now, you don’t want to be late to your next class.” He said with his fingers back in his pockets and he nodded his head towards the door.

I don’t know if Mr. Smith creeps me out more or makes me smile more. I guess it hurts me to see students make fun of him, for how personable he is about my writing. No other teacher has made me feel this way before.

Meet more characters in my story HERE.

writing

Poetry Submissions

I was inspired when I saw a writing contest on Instagram hosted by @thewritingkingdom

The criteria for the poetry category was: write a poem about grief, loss, or/and sadness. I definitely have a few of those in my writing collection, so it was a blast to pull them out and bring them to life again for the contest! I submitted multiple pieces, and one of them WON!

Drum roll, please…I’m excited about THIS ONE winning, because it’s a poem I’m using in my novel! [One of my MC‘s is a teenage girl who loves to write, and to help me find her voice I pulled out some of my own teenage poetry from 2001-2003.] Sometimes the words you wrote long ago will still be the words you use today.

Thank you for reading! Please follow me on Instagram.

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Meet the Men Characters

Writing a story with male characters is an ongoing development as a female author. My main characters are female [mother & daughter] but their stories are told with and about the men in their lives too. Here is a glimpse of their character development.

Mr. Smith – This is Mia’s English teacher who really pushes her to submit writing to the high school literary journal because he has been impressed by her writing. Read a portion of the novel with this character HERE.

Jean Paul Jones “JPJ” – This is Mia’s tutor. He graduated high school at the top of his class, so he offers tutoring for high school students while being enrolled in college full time. Read a portion of the novel with this character HERE.

Vinnie – This is Mandy’s financial advisor. He is married, but they have a dating history from long ago. They’ve been able to keep their professional relationship PG, until recently. Read a portion of the novel with this character HERE.

Cam – This is Mandy’s new fling. They recently met and have been going out on dates.  He is emotionally unavailable because he’s going through a divorce, but when they go out they laugh and have fun together. Read a portion of the novel with this character SOON.

Trey – This is Mandy’s on again, off again boyfriend that seems to come around when he needs money to help the construction business he owns. Always making big promises about staying together and building a life together, but once he pays back the money, he seems to disappear until he needs another loan for a job. They have been a couple for a total of two years. When he is around, he stays at Mandy’s home, and he has a great relationship with her daughter. Mia actually thinks of him as the only suitable father-figure in her life. Trey is confident. His conflicts stem from his anger issues and his lack of commitment.

Meet the Main Characters

writing

Meet the Main Characters

A single mother, Mandy, and teenage daughter, Mia, are separately fighting for attention from the men in their lives. They have a traumatic past, and Mandy’s alcoholism brings them to a place of ultimatums as a broken family.

Mandy is a single 30 year old mother who spends her days drinking and dating multiple men. She had her daughter, Mia, very young, so was home-schooled through high school while her parents helped raise Mia. Her parents died when Mia was almost 5, and left a large inheritance enough-so having a source of income is not needed to survive. Mandy did not continue on with college after her parents passed, but took on raising Mia on her own in her deceased parent’s home. 

Mandy’s Conflict – While she is insistent on having open communication with her own daughter about safe sex, she is not the best role model for a solid relationship. The heavy drinking and unstable relationships cause her to be emotional and unrealistic about life.

See how I further write Mandy’s character HERE.

Mia is a 14 year old high school freshman who has a lot of questions about what life is really all about. She does well in English class because she has the creative mind to write, and she has found poetry is her outlet to frustration with strong encouragement from her English teacher.  Her mom hires a tutor for Mia to help in all the classes she’s failing. Mia falls deeply in love with her tutor, and tries to become girlfriend status.

Mia’s Conflict – Her only role model is breaking at the seams emotionally from her heavy drinking, so starting high school has been very difficult and she is not doing well in most of her classes. She has no father figure to look up to and keeps tabs on her mother and all the men she brings around; longing for one of them to stick around so her mother can stop drinking and be happy. Since her mother has had many talks about safe sex, it has her thinking about finding a boyfriend and having sex asap. 

See how I further build Mia’s character HERE.

Meet the Men | Characters

writing

1000 word story

Start Writing Fiction | Week 8

It’s the last week of the course! This story was my final assignment, and I received feedback on it from other people in the class.

I sat at the first table in the study section of the library, waiting for my new tutor to show up. Mom said he would be in a red sweatshirt.

I tucked my hair behind my ear and opened up my notebook. Chewing on the end of my pen, I thought back to the day dreams I had earlier in English class, so I started scribbling away: 

He took her by the hand and led her into the night…
It was that night he embraced her with warm…

“Greetings!” A voice bellowed.

I looked up and saw him wearing a bright red sweatshirt. He was tall, skinny, blonde and beautiful, “ur-are you John Paul Jones?” 

“Uh—yeah! But, you can call me JPJ,” he moved his hand to his chest and flung his hair back with a shake of his head, “It’s great to meet you,” he sounded like a total surfer. My heart was racing, he definitely didn’t look like someone who graduated first in his class, or that’s what mom said.

“I’ll take a seat and we’ll get started?” He pulled a chair out, and I realized my mouth was wide open…and so was my notebook! So, I slammed them both shut. 

“Yeah, I need to get my grades up or else I’ll need to repeat freshman year,” I admitted, out loud, oh my gosh I don’t even know this guy.

“What do you think we ditch this library scene and go outside to study?” his blue eyes peered at me, and his blond hair was shining in the light as he brushed it back with his fingers.

“Sure—I could go for that,” I sounded nervous. 

“Cool. Let’s boogie,” he stood up and headed for the entrance. I had to grab my things quickly and jog to catch up. 

Then, he held the door for me as we walked outside.

I held the door for her as we walked outside. It was nice out, a sunny 60 degrees in Pure Michigan. Warm enough to take my sweatshirt off. 

Mia was definitely cute. She was an exact image of her mother, but a good 20 lbs lighter, so that meant she had smaller boobs. With no presence on social media, I wasn’t able to look her up ahead of time, but I did find her mom on multiple platforms: Twitter, Facebook, Tinder…

Her daughter was quietly beautiful. Her long eyelashes batted at me when she spoke and then I saw her brown tiger eyes that glowed orange in the sunlight. I was strangely attracted ever since I saw her across the library, feverishly writing in her notebook. 

As I sat in the grass next to her and went over her Biology notes from that day, she would make silly comments about her notetaking, “I actually think you have excellent handwriting and your notes are concise,” I nudged her as we were getting to the end of our tutor time. “So, why are you failing these classes? You have a bright mind and take good notes. Better yet, why aren’t you on Twitter or Facebook?”

Her face turned a blush pink as I spun questions her way. The sun made her hair shine and her skin glow, “Well, is this being asked on tutor time, or off tutor time?” She nudged back at me.

“Let me give you a ride home, and we can chat off tutor time,” I nudged her back. “My car is right over there,” I motioned to the parking lot. 

“Alright, I guess that will be alright,” she smiled back at me. We grabbed our backpacks and headed to the parking lot. I held the car door for her to get in on the passengers side.

He held the car door for me to get in. My heart was racing in my chest, and I felt a chill that was making me shiver.

He got in the driver’s seat. “Hey, you look a little cold, put this on,” he handed me the red sweatshirt.

“Thanks, but you don’t have to–”

“I insist!” His smile was encouraging. I took a deep breath as I slid his sweatshirt over my head. His smell hit me, like a wave of aromas that I have never experienced before. Just be cool, is what I kept thinking to myself. I’ve never been in a guy’s car before, and the crazy thing is he seemed interested in me. At least interested enough to have an off tutor time chat. I’m sure my mom isn’t even home to see me being dropped off by JPJ, but she might flip if she finds out.

He broke the silence, “So, uh, you’re a really pretty girl, why aren’t you on social media?”

His confidence was attractive and I felt comfortable sharing, “I see other people my age on their phones, all the time, and I don’t have a life on my phone, and I don’t feel the need to scroll through other people’s lives because I have a house of books to read about other people’s lives.” I felt like I was rambling at this point.

“So, you do a lot of reading?”

“Yes, I do. My mom forced me to read and write by locking me in my bedroom with nothing but books and notebooks.” I felt okay sharing this with him. “Right now, I’m reading a lot of Shakespeare because of my English class, but I fell in love with his sonnets.”

JPJ’s face lit right up and he went into character, “Doth thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt that I love.” 

As he finished, I applauded and was smiling from ear to ear, “Hamlet–my favorite!”

He shook his blonde hair back, perfectly it stayed, and he put his sunglasses on, “Let me get you home before your mom starts to worry.” He started his car and pulled out of the library parking lot.

He gets me.

I share more of my notes & assignments:
Start Writing Fiction | Coursework

Meet the Main Characters HERE

writing

Building a new character

Start Writing Fiction | Week 6

This week’s coursework, from the online course listed above, brought the opportunity to build one of my main characters more on paper. There is still room for growth, but it gave me a great start.

Physical/biological: age, height, size, state of health, assets, flaws, sexuality, gait, voice.

Mia is a 14 year old female who is a freshman in high school. She looks a lot like her young mom: 5’5” with brown tiger eyes that draw you into a pretty face, and petite 125 lb body. She uses a dark eyeliner application that shows off her long eyelashes, and she maintains her blonde hair highlights with straight hair that falls over the shoulder. She is soft spoken, and usually hides behind her notebook that she journals poetry or thoughts throughout the day. Her wardrobe of choice is jeans and sneakers with a black tank and black hoodie. Her smartphone usually goes in her hoodie pocket, or gets stashed in her backpack while at school. Never carries a purse, just a notebook. Mia is interested in boys, and now that she’s in high school they are starting to catch her attention as her mom has dialed up the sex talk more and more recently. She is usually questioning another character in return or avoiding the answer somehow. Typical teenager?

Psychological: intelligence, temperament, happiness/unhappiness, attitudes, self-knowledge, unconscious aspects.

Mia is not doing well in school because she is not applying herself in class or completing homework outside of class. Writing poetry in her notebook makes her happy, so that is what she focuses on in her free time. Her mom is usually never home, and if she is she’s holed up drinking in her bedroom closet. Mia feels empathetic towards her mother and takes care of her when she is at her lowest with men and alcohol. She longs to have a father, and has seen many men come-and-go dating her mom. She takes out her pain and frustration in her notebook, so using words out loud is harder for her. She is usually quick and to the point when she speaks, but most times too soft to be heard and is cut off.

Interpersonal/cultural: family, friends, colleagues, birthplace, education, hobbies, beliefs, values, lifestyle.

Mia lives with her mom in her deceased grandparents’ home, a ranch mansion. She was nearly five years old when her grandma and grandpa tragically passed away in a car accident. While that shapes a lot of her lifestyle today, she refuses to speak about her grandparents being dead with her mom. Mia has no relation with her dad, he is not in the picture and never has been. She longs for a male relationship that is father-like. While she is failing all other classes, she is excelling in English. It’s an easy class for her, and her English teacher is pushing her to be a better writer. He pushes her like a father would.

Personal history: major events in their life, including the best and the most traumatic times.

Mia was raised by her grandparents in her infant years, while her mom homeschooled to finish high school. Mia was almost five, and she was living with her mom (who was taking college classes) in a small 2 bedroom apartment, when her grandparents visited to lecture her mom about failing or dropping college classes…and it was that night they got into a fatal accident. Her mom did not go back to college, but almost immediately moved them into the ranch mansion and they were set with finances through trust funds and life insurance. Life seemed more normal living at grandma and grandpa’s house, surrounded with rooms of old items and bookshelves full of books. But, Mia was alone in her room a lot so she would create stories of her own that include imaginary friends and imaginary grandparents. Mom is boss, and when she comes around for discussion or consolation—Mia drops what she’s doing to make mom feel like number one.

Portraying your character—in the 3rd person.

Mia is like a very delicate flower, but her roots are strong and hold her up. She prefers the shade, or shys away from the sun as a retreat to her notebook where she writes. She has raised herself, as her young mother is very absent. As soon as Mia was old enough to write, she would write stories in her notebook about traveling around the world with imaginary friends–just like the stories her grandparents used to tell her about their travels.

Straight blonde highlighted hair falls over her shoulders, dark eyeliner shows off her long eyelashes and when she bats her eyes at you, her brown tiger eyes stare back longingly. Her pretty face and petite body gets her a second glance from most guys when she is noticed in the highschool lineup. Who is this freshman girl? Her wardrobe is basic, and when she takes off her black sweatshirt to reveal a black tank, with jean capris and sneakers, it seems like she has a fashion-forward maturity level of basic beauty.

She sat on the edge of her bed, hunched over, leaning into her notebook–scribbling away. She was writing words of love and wishes for intimacy. She hears a sob outside her bedroom door, so Mia closes her notebook and opens her door to find her mom with her hands over her face, mascara running down her fingers, “Mom, what’s wrong?” asked Mia, as she gave her mom a big hug.

Mom lowered her hands away from her face and she drunkenly muttered, “I just–it was–”

“Another bad night?” Mia asked sternly, and with that: mom raised her hands to her face and started sobbing again. Mia took a step back and continued her stern voice, “I don’t think you’re dating the right guys, and you’re trying way too hard. It shouldn’t be this difficult–”

“Difficult to what?!” Mom snapped back, “find true love? I don’t think I’ll be taking advice from my teenage daughter, who just writes about true love.”

“Grandma and Grandpa were true love! I’ve seen it too!” Mia raised her voice back, and then slammed her bedroom door and retreated back to her bed. In the hunched over position, she leaned into her hands and cried softly into them.

Meet the Main Characters HERE

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Challenging expectations

Start Writing Fiction | Week 5

Note: this is an exercise for the online course, listed above. Some material may be inappropriate for younger ages, I have rated it PG-13 due to sex talk.


“You can’t just–give in and have sex with any guy–ever!” My mom went through her whole hand motion routine too, as she was pacing back and forth in my bedroom. I was sitting on my bed with my notebooks scattered around my bedspread.

I pulled my knees into my chest and hugged them with my arms, “Would you just leave me alone? I don’t need to hear about your teenage problems and not knowing about safe sex and committing the dirty deed with a guy on the first date.”

She got stern and started pointing, “my parents did not have this, very uncomfortable, sex conversation with me until I was too old to hear it, and you know what?” She stopped in her pointing-tracks and looked right at me.

I knew the answer to her question, her pain and agony, so I sounded snarky, “you were pregnant with me and you didn’t know it yet.”

There was a dead silence that hung in the air and crept over my words. My feelings are usually hidden within a notebook, so saying this out loud is uncharted territory.

“Why would you say it like that?” Asked my anxious mother, now-turned soft and weepy. 

As I fumble for the words to say, “Yo-ou have had this conversation with me a million times.”

“I know, but I never want you to make the same mistake as me. I lost out on so much, I didn’t go to highschool or prom or anything that normal people my age were doing,” she was holding back tears.

I pushed my face into my knees and gave a muffled response, “I know. No sex is better than safe sex.”

“That’s right.” She walked over to my bed, kissed the top of my head, and exited quickly to sulk down the hallway as she walked to her own room.

I quickly grabbed a notebook and opened it up to a fresh page. After scribbling a date at the top, I started writing:

I should be doing my homework, but my mom sidetracked me…again.
She’s going on another first date…will he be the chosen one?
My dad was not the one…

I slammed the notebook shut and tried to fight the tears that were finding their way out. My mind was racing like wildfire: visions of my mom being my age and having sex and visions of my mom going out on first dates throughout my whole childhood.

I had a list in one of these notebooks with names of men–guys who came around the house. Some stayed longer than others, but no one has stayed forever. There’s only one guy I feel like he could be a good father figure, if he ever came back.

I started to think about the chant my mom ingrained in my brain: “No sex is better than safe sex.” But, my mom doesn’t follow the no sex rule, why should I? As long as I’m safe, I won’t get pregnant the first time like her...

Meet the Main Characters HERE