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This past Sunday night, a local teenage girl went missing and no one has seen or heard from her since.
15-year-old Nichole Kristine Cable of Glenburn, Maine was last heard from Sunday night at around 9:20pm.
It’s time for Friday Fictioneers. Thanks Rochelle for leading us. It feels good to be back. My story is a tad dark today.
For more stories from the Fictioneers, please click here.
Genre: Horror
Copyright – Sarah Ann Hall
Mixer (100 words)
Cole took the Chamberlain mansion without hesitation. In its prime, it was the playground of the social elite. He envisioned writing the summer away while sipping from crystal glasses, putting the final touches on what certainly would be an award-winning novel.
Walking up its path, Cole could barely distinguish the entrance, obscured by overgrown grass and wildflowers. As he opened the door, dust swirled around his head and a stench of smoke and rot overpowered him. Choking, he stumbled outside to throw up.
When his agent came looking, while the mansion appeared spotless, neither Cole nor his story were recognizable.
In my last post, I talked about a teenager who had gone missing. I just wanted to follow-up to report some great news! Many of you may have already heard, but for those you haven’t I thought you would like to know.
The missing teenager has been found and is safe at home with her family. What a relief! Just a few hours after I published my post, I received the news. I’d like to think we all put some good vibes out there in the Universe. Thanks to all who kept the missing teen in your thoughts and prayers.
Last week at my sons’ elementary school, a teacher informed me I could not stand in front of my child’s classroom before school during the drop off. “No parents in the corridor,” exclaimed the teacher in my general direction. Really? Am I the enemy now?
Throughout the year, I have let of number of things roll off me. I’ve seen freshly painted lines and arrows in the parking lot, newly installed signs, fences and video cameras, and memos to read and surveys to complete in my kids’ folders. Volunteer parents dictate the rules of the parking lot, and parking spaces now carry time limits. So many rules and regulations, all in the name of heightened security and safety. I’ve shrugged off the thought that our tax dollars could perhaps be better spent on, oh I don’t know, books. These days, how can we argue with safety?
Never mind the real elephant in the parking lot, the official drop off/pick up site. This is just an accident waiting to happen. The cross walk is situated where kids most likely could be hit. The other day, I almost lost it, yelling at a parent, “I am so soooorrrry.” I very nearly came this close, this close, readers, to honking my horn at her, a Desperate Housewives moment.
Directly before pick up, parents and guardians have been trained to stay away from the classroom. We now have a designated waiting area. The reason being is that it will cut back on unnecessary noise and conversational chatter affecting the students’ learning. So with this, in the name of learning and education, I am on board. This is a logical and a reasonable request.
But to not give my child a kiss before class, this is the last straw. I mean don’t they know my days are numbered? When I step on campus with my fourth grader, I suddenly turn into invisible mom. Who knew I had such superpowers? But my seven-year-old, he stills needs me…
We interrupt the regularly scheduled programming of this post, as this blogger’s thought process has wildly thrown off course…
Dear readers, on Mother’s Day, of all days, I read an email about a missing teen, a high school student, who happens to belong to the same water polo club as my son. They don’t know each other, as she is quite a bit older. She’s a high school student, who went missing during school hours.
This announcement stopped me in my tracks for a number of reasons. First, I thought about this mother not knowing the whereabouts of her daughter. There are no words for the despair these parents must feel. I’m not even going to try to put words around this, but know it must be a living hell, a parent’s worst nightmare. I understand this teen is considered at risk and requires medication. I don’t know the circumstances around her disappearance, but that she went missing during school hours, a time in which we expect our kids are supervised, their whereabouts accounted for.
This high school is also where my son practices water polo twice a week. It has occurred to me on a number of occasions that it hasn’t felt safe. The restrooms are located in a dark hallway, accessible to anyone. Now I will forever be watchful, guarded, suspicious, as maybe I should have always been. I have never met this missing teenager, but have shed tears for her, hoping for her safe return.
In the meantime, I can’t help but feel all these enhancements of new signs and fences are superficial band-aides. They may enforce a rule that no parents are allowed in the corridor without a badge. I’m sure it’s coming, and I will abide as a good parent will.
But they can’t take my kiss away. If my kid needs a kiss, he will get one, even if it’s in the parking lot.
Oh, who am I kidding? This post will be about the blogging valleys, no peaks in sight today. Blogging friends, I know you’ll pull me through. You’re my rock, my inspiration.
It appears I have a bit of the Tangled Mind Syndrome (TMS). I’m sure you’ve heard of it. It happens when your mind is like a big ball of yarn all tangled up, and you think you can’t possibly untangle it, and you just want to snip it. But, of course, you can’t do that. It’s your mind we’re talking about. You must just brace yourself for unpleasantness and confusion.
Today, for example, I was at a four-way stop and I simply forgot which direction I wanted to go. Please don’t be alarmed. I simply made a decision and went straight. They were no accidents. See, I’m still here…typing. I appreciate that you were worried about me.
Later, I searched high and low in my refrigerator for the coffee creamer and it was nowhere, nowhere to be found….but this, this simply because it wasn’t there, it was never there. It was all used up already, see, and no one bothered to tell me. So, you’re left searching, searching for something that is not there.This undoubtedly happens when you are mentally tangled.
In the process of this search for this ghost of an object, you stumble across this huge watermelon in your refrigerator taking up some prime real estate, all the space, and you wonder why it is there in the first place? Now you must cut it with a knife that is probably too dull and it will be taxing. You’re left feeling anxious because you probably won’t cut it right. There is a special way to cut a watermelon so that all the slices are perfect, probably not easily accomplished with the dull knife. A mango would be easier, but that also requires a particular process of cutting. I’m sure you can go Google this, or maybe you know someone personally who is a fruit cutting expert. I would like to meet this person.
I could always blog about my laundry, the never-ending black hole of laundry, but then I would need to discuss bedwetting and Asperger’s, not that they’re typically related, which they really aren’t here either. It’s simply part of the story, much too tangled. Would you want to read that one? No?
Instead, I will stare at a wide expanse of blue, a calming color. A lovely ocean of a picture will do the trick since I can’t get the real thing. Cue ocean. That will work.
I’m sure after a little meditating, I’ll be back with a brilliant post, or, er, something you like, something that’s not a complete waste of time. Although, time wasted can be time well spent. Efficiency is not all it’s cracked up to be. So, let’s just end this now. Okay.
What a nice spot, huh?
May 4th was Free Comic Book Day. Did you get yours? I hope, at least, that the Fourth was with you. Oh, what perfect timing for a free comic. It’s kind of big deal in our household. My hubby is wild about comics. So off we went.
You know you are in the right place when the Dark Side is there to welcome you.
And it’s quite festive inside.
Perhaps you would like some of these offerings…
Or these…
These were hubby’s favorites. We don’t need any glittery Hollywood endings. No, sir. I apologize for the glare.
If these aren’t enough you can always go through the back issues. This resembles our closet because who needs stinking clothes when you have comic books. Hubby has been collecting for decades.
Personally, I enjoyed The Remainz. This would be “The Rocking Dead.” Don’t leave home without your head, because you will miss it and will have a hard time relocating it. Trust me on this.
I know you’re excited now.
In the spirit of the day, I saw Iron Man 3 with my kids. I won’t review it here, because I would probably spoil it for you. I will just say that I loved it and, of course, I loved Robert Downey Jr., and Guy Pearce was a lovely villain. I will also tell you that there was one part when I just gasped because I could barely contain myself, and had you been there with me, you would have thought I was ridiculous and would have been greatly embarrassed to be seen with me.
There is a cookie at the end, and if you decide to stay for it (it’s good), you will see the extraordinarily long list of people who worked on Digital Effects. It’s one of the longest I’ve ever seen. You’ll also learn that parts of the movie were shot in North Carolina, and there’s a company called “Eargasm.” I’m not entirely sure what a Depth Editor does either.
My movie bubble burst when I went to the restroom and waited desperately for the paper towel to auto-dispense. Surely, it should just shoot out and grab my arm. Tony Stark, he’s so hot, so smart, sexy….Alas, Tony Stark is merely a fantasy. Dammit.
Well, here’s a smart and sexy song for you, a little chill music to round out your weekend. This song just makes me want to choreograph a dance. I hope you have a great rest of your weekend!
Photo by David Sylvian
Recently I had the pleasure of meeting James Rollins, a New York Times bestselling author, at a book event at my local library. Anytime I can learn how someone has made it as an author, I’m all ears.
Born James Paul Czajkowski, he is a colossal success, having written 26 novels, in the international thriller, fantasy, and young adult genres. Among that list are his Sigma Force Series Novels, a huge draw for his fans, where history meets science and a lot of stuff is blown up in between. For fantasy novels he writes under the name James Clemens. His novels have been translated in more than 40 languages.
I might have expected someone of such caliber to be intimidating or arrogant. Instead Jim was warm, funny, enthusiastic, and humble. He was there at the book event to meet with fans and offer encouragement to aspiring writers. I thought to myself how delightful it must be as an author to see your fans show up at event with a stack of your books.
His own path to becoming a writer was a circuitous one. In fact, he started out as a veterinarian. He explained that while he knew he had a scientific mind, his warped, right brain also competed for his attention. Always a voracious reader, he practiced his storytelling abilities in his childhood with tales that scared and tricked his brother. Growing up in a big family with six kids, I imagine the opportunities were endless.
He wrote short stories in the beginning and attended a writing group. Only one of his short stories was published, but it was this one achievement that gave him the push he needed to keep going. When he completed his novel and set out to get an agent, he was rejected almost 50 times, even to the tune of “This is unpublishable.” But on the fiftieth attempt, his work was accepted.
He is still active in the veterinarian community and joked he can spay or neuter a cat in thirty seconds. Animals appear in many of his books. In his latest novel, Bloodline, he examines the relationship between a war dog and his handler. In the story, the dog assumes a character role. Additionally, he actively supports veterans in a project called Authors United for Veterans and travels overseas for USO tours. It is heart-warming to see someone giving back to his community.
Although he mentioned that many of his books have been optioned in Hollywood, none have been given the green light until recently. Jim explained his interaction with Hollywood directors had previously been unlucky. He described one meeting with a certain director at his first writing conference in Maui. (By the way, he recommends this conference. Hey, sign me up!) He turned to him, thinking it was a person he knew from his home town, and said, “What are you doing here?” It so happened that this person was Ron Howard, who replied, “I was invited.”
He also described accidently hitting Quentin Tarantino in the gut at the San Diego Comic Convention. It seems Mr. Tarantino would be the last person you would want to hit, anywhere.
His advice to writers is to never give up and to keep writing. While Jim writes one novel, he is also researching for the next. In his own writing practice, he writes five pages, fives days a week. At night, he gets his reading in. He also prominently displays a post-it note on his computer that says, “You have permission to write the worst crap in the Universe.” He admits that many of his pages are polished and ready to be inserted into his story, which is often loosely outlined before writing.
He also had tips for authenticating historical events. To the laughter of the audience, he mentioned if you can get a few facts correct, like the actual location of a corner Starbucks, people will believe everything that you write. A little trick! In fact, many of his readers confuse fact from fiction. They swear the fiction is actually truthful, and the truth, all made up. I’d say that is clever writing.
As I presented my newly purchased The Devil Colony to be signed, he said to me, “If I can a write a novel, anyone can.” I left feeling a little giddy, and quite hopeful.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get to work on that short story.
Oh…I’m so glad to see you. I truly am. Now where was I?
OH…
Listen…Oh, my new followers….oh, oh, oh…I’m really excited you decided to follow me. Whatever WordPress, Automattic folks, whatever it is you’re doing, because I didn’t get the press about this. It feels like a long, drawn-out version of being Freshly Pressed. Don’t get me wrong. I think it’s fun. So, if you’ve followed me due to the little feature that’s currently on display (do you know what I’m talking about?)….Well, welcome! I hope you come back. Please say hello. I won’t bite!
New friends, you must have seen something enticing here in The Bumble Files, and whatever it is I will not be questioning it. I, for one, have followed a few blogs myself. It kind of feels like Christmas. I’ve even been invited to join blogs I already follow. A glitch? Perhaps. This begs the question, is Automattic just trying to pull the wool over our eyes? I’ve heard some people inadvertently, mistakenly, by some freak of nature have un-followed their blogging friends…and this, this could be a slick way for people to become re-aquainted with their friends. See, some of us are paying attention here. Uh huh.
For those of you who have re-found me or are following me for the first time, this is not The Boob Files if this is what, in fact, brought you here. It’s no joke. This is one of my most popular searches and…oh…I’ve considered renaming my blog to The Boob Files. Of course, this would imply that this is a girlie girl, chick blog where I talk about matters that concern women. I could do this. Or, I could become something else entirely. I found Ashley’s blog over at Zebra Garden so delightful, I wanted to be Amy’s Garden. Hmm. See, I’ve really been experiencing some inner turmoil….
But AH…
I was at the Senior Clubhouse and I heard Wham’s! “Careless Whisper” in Muzak, easy-listening style. It took me a few seconds…
and then I said…Ah.
Certainly you know the tune. Here’s a refresher:
I’m never gonna dance again
guilty feet have got no rhythm
Though it’s easy to pretend
I know you’re not a fool.
This isn’t quite it, but it’s close enough:
Actually, it made me think of the long summer dresses, you know, the Maxi Dress. Ahhhhh, the Maxi Dress. Truthfully, it seems like a ton of fabric because it’s loooonnnnggg. And it’s hot, I would imagine. I can just feel the sweat dripping.
Of course, take this outfit to the beach, and it’s perfect. There, barefoot, you feel the sand through your toes. A little necklace as an accent will dress it right up. Now, it’s a dinner dress. (Have I lost my male readership?)
It’s also the kind of dress that you can get away with.wearing nothing underneath…have you come back? That was easy….
WOW…
I’ve saved the best for last. First, let me say I am spellbound. Truth. The other day, I wrote a Friday Fictioneer flash entitled, Book Club Stalker, with two main characters named Simon and Ian.
Lo and behold, t, a fellow Fictioneer, (his blog, as long as I’m singing), comments that he has two sons named Simon and Ian. So, not only did I include the name of one of his sons, but both! Not only that, if that weren’t enough, but t tells me that my characters even embody the personalities of his two sons. Strange, yes? What are the chances? Incredible.
Not to mention that my story is about a stalker (t must think I’m stalking him). No, t, there’s no chance. But can you even believe that my story is about a stalker? I am mystified.
Is it the collective consciousness at work? Perhaps, t and I have met in a former life. There’s no other explanation. Do you have a better one?
What about you? Has anything blown your mind lately?
photo credit: FashionbyHe via photopin cc
photo credit: asnagpal via photopin cc
It’s time for Friday Fictioneers. As always, thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for leading this group.
I just love bookstores. I hope they don’t all go away.
Click here for more stories from the Fictioneers.
Genre: Humor (100 words)
Copyright – Claire Fuller
Book Club Stalker
The book club gathered weekly, an exclusive female unit, outfitted with painted lips and stiletto heels. They didn’t gather to talk about the latest, popularized drivel. Their eyes darted from their books to scout the room, ready to pounce on the last available intelligent males on the planet.
Simon peeked through a column of books and watched in horror as they laughed boisterously, obviously disturbing the other patrons. He plopped into a cushy chair near their table, and glared.
Ian, the store owner, tapped him on the shoulder.
“Simon, man. These are paying customers. You’re scaring them.”
“Me?” Simon gasped.
Vanessa-Jane Chapman, I’ll put this as simply as I can. You have inspired me with your Not So Inspirational Quotes post. I’m not sure exactly what it is….I, uh, can’t quite put my finger on it. Oh, I know. It’s the quote thingys, those things that are sucking up the last of my brain cells
Dear readers, do you remember when you had tucked inside your little memory bank at least 30 phone numbers? That’s right. I could rattle off a phone number in an instant. The Millennials out there don’t even know what I’m talking about, am I right?
Enough of that for now, how’s your kitty today? Because this is important, too. Mine is scowling at me. Oh, and she’s eating some more. Yours is sleeping with you while you watch T.V. Splendid! Who doesn’t like cats? I mean you can never look at too many. (I’m actually a big cat lover.)
You don’t have a cat you say? Why not read a quote instead? It will make you positively glow inside. No? You’re looking a little sick. Would you like to throw up? Try this one…
Your heart is the gift of life and a candle lights our journey in friendship, as we celebrate yesterday, tomorrow, and today with happiness and love.
Cue sunset.
Vanessa, how did I do? That was slightly invigorating.
Just read Vanessa’s post. She’s the one with talent. Oh, and she has a bucket for you if you should need one.
