#amreading – Page 33 – Jean's Writing

Smelled Like Death and Cheap Perfume

Published on March 10, 2015April 16, 2015 by Jean M. Cogdell9 Comments

The scent was overpowering, smelled like death and cheap perfume. I stepped over books and clothes, careful not to fall. Candy wrappers and trash littered corners. A pizza box teetered on top of the dresser.

I set down the Pinesol, snapped open the large plastic garbage bag, slipped on a pair of heavy-duty rubber gloves, and wished I’d brought a gas mask. Piece by piece I dropped everything into the trash bag.

Exhausted, but relieved glad I’d found nothing dead or squeaking.

“Mom, what’ve you done?”

“Cleaned your room.”

“But my stuff… .”

“Gone,” I said and left my daughter, stunned, standing in her empty bedroom.

100 Word Challenge for Grown Ups – Week#170

the prompt this week and it is :

…the scent was overpowering…

Losing and Winning – I prefer winning

Published on January 5, 2015 by Jean M. Cogdell10 Comments

Ouch! “We regret …”

How I hate those words. Don’t we all? But since I shared my excitement and success with you, thought it only fair to share my disappointment and failure. Rejections keep me humble, reminding me, I’m not all that, and sometimes I’m just plain dumb.

I’d little time to bask in the warm glow of publication when up popped the damned devil, Rejection.

All comfy in my pjs and slippers, I sat down to relax in front of the fire, sip eggnog and catch up on emails.

After all, the holidays are a time to kick back and relax. A time to chill and enjoy the fact Fiction Southeast had published my essay. Can you tell I was feeling a bit proud?

Well, everyone knows with pride comes the fall.

My eggnog grew warm as the cold wind of reality swept though my computer and I read the following line in an email.

Thank you for your submission. Unfortunately….

I sulked, ranted and raved over my good story, which they’d declined. Why the hell, was it rejected? Apparently, the judges didn’t know good writing from a hole in the ground.

Then the free critique offered by the magazine arrived. Gulp.

Time to eat crow. Dumb, dumb, and dumber, I’m such a dummy. I repeated as I banged my head on the desk.

The judges liked my story.

“This story is well written, with a good character dynamic.” However, I’d failed to comply with one of the rules. Me I disqualified myself! Non-negotiable. No exceptions.

Messing up or missing a rule equals rejection.

Guess the judges did recognize good writing and they also recognized a dumb one too. A writer that can’t follow instructions.

Stupid, stupid… I took another minute and banged head on keyboard.

One step forward and two back… that’s me.

Now that I need Ibuprofen for my headache I’ll take a deep breath and try again.

Back to the keyboard, writing, reading and studying. To improve my chances for publication I’m reading and rereading a few websites. However not sure anything can help me remember to follow the rules.

Banging head again, need a minute.

7 How to websites for writing, winning and publishing.

Read today, Why I Write

Published on December 23, 2014 by Jean M. Cogdell

Published –

At Fiction Southeast

Today my essay went live at this exciting online journal. I’m thrilled the editors chose to publish my story and also because this is the first essay I’ve written in more years than I care to count.

Writing Why I Write, was an exercise of love. Through the encouragement of family I’ve set my words free.

Please go to Fiction Southwest and read Why I Write and let me know what you think.

The magic happens here

Published on November 25, 2014December 8, 2014 by Jean M. Cogdell7 Comments

Jean’s Writing – Five Sentence Fiction: Irritation

Like every other writer in the world, I decide to write a best seller, a hell of a book.

How long could it take, thirty days, ninety days?

Soon the printer is out of ink, I’m flipping over used paper, and my annoyance grows as I consider this may take a year or a millennium.

My damn computer has become a source of irritation not inspiration as words fail to appear.

I’m ready to concede no great story is forthcoming, all hope is lost, and then the magic happens, not with massive fireworks, but with a tiny spark, I hear the voice of my muse.