school – Jean's Writing

Homework

Well, school’s started.

Your house is quiet.

Time to get writing.

But let’s be honest, letting go of those hazy, lazy days of summer is not easy. This summer I’ve enjoyed reading for pure pleasure and daydreaming of sandy beaches.

Are you mocked by your computer screen too? Mine stares at me like a two-year old who doesn’t understand the word no.

However, I’m determined to get my groove back and shake out the cobwebs. At my age, not an easy thing.

So it’s back to basics, and homework. Prompts to get the rust off and articles, books and websites that remind me how to write. Yes, I need reminding.

I’ve listed a few of my favs. Hope they help you get going this fall.

As I said, this is just a few of the many. I hope one or more of these great writers nudge you and get those fingers flying. Happy writing.

Thanks to Janice Hardy for a great writing exercise on her website. Join in the fun and rise to her challenge. You should hop over to The Other Side of the Story and get writing because the Winner gets a 1000-word critique. Here is my entry.

Spring Forward

She turned the last clock forward an hour. Whoever invented Daylight Savings Time had a mean streak. Can’t squeeze more than twenty-four hours out of a day no matter which way you turn the hands on a clock. It had to be a man who thought up an idiotic idea like that because no woman in her right mind would bother with such foolishness.

At the refrigerator, she stopped and made a note for James to change the batteries in the smoke detectors. She didn’t think they had the right size so he’d need to go the store for more. She added a question mark to the note.

Lord, just thinking about tomorrow made her tired. Church in the morning, assuming she didn’t over sleep, afterward lunch at the in-laws and James Jr’s T-ball game at four. Sunday hadn’t been a day of rest since the birth of their first kid.

She slipped through the screen door and settled on the porch swing. The warm breeze and the song of the tree frogs washed away her stress. Fireflies winked in the grass keeping time with the symphony. In these stolen moments, when her world stopped spinning, she recharged her own batteries. With just eight weeks left of school, she soon wouldn’t have much time for quiet reflection.

The door creaked behind her, and she stood turning to follow James to bed. He was right morning would come all too soon. An hour earlier to be exact.