You are What You Read (Yesterday, I was a lightning-wielding-warrior.)

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You know that comforting and familiar feeling you have when you’re with “your people”? They get you. You get them.

When I step into a room full of writers, I can feel it—the air sizzles with energy.  Extraordinary minds ready to burst with new ideas and untold stories. Writers are burdened in a good way. They have an overwhelming need to absorb (read – we like to call this research) and share new ideas (write).

However, there have been several encounters with my fellow-word-nerds that have left me puzzled. Conversations that have gone something like this:

“What do you write?”

I say, “Speculative fiction.”

“Really? Is that like science fiction?”

“Not necessarily. I actually prefer fantasy and contemporary fiction, but they all fall under the same speculative-genre umbrella.”

“Oh. I’m a non-fiction writer. I don’t read fiction.”

What! “You never read fiction?”

“Not really.”

“Huh.”

At this point in the conversation confusion descends upon me like a thick fog. My brain can’t comprehend someone who doesn’t explore new worlds through fiction. Ever.

Don’t get me wrong, I read non-fiction all the time, but it’s usually for historical research, some type of self-help or fitness book, or  devotionals.

I can’t for the life of me figure out how someone can live day-in and day-out and not exercise their imaginations by getting lost in a great story.

I think it’s okay to have a little childish fun. Leave this world for a few hours and explore new ones. C.S. Lewis  (Author of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe) said, “Some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again.”

That day should be today.

Here is a book I’ve recently read by Lindsay A. Franklin called The Story Peddler. It is an uplifting and fantastically fun read! Take a break from the busyness of life and get  lost for a while in a fantasy land.

https://www.enclavepublishing.com/books/story-peddler/

*** I’d love to hear from you. Please, share your favorite books. What were you yesterday?

Went shopping and bought a… Bloggling?

Everyone: “Sara, you need a blog.”

Me: “Why? They’re so needy. I don’t have time for a blog in my life.”

Everyone: “You’ll never get where you want to go without one. And, you’ll never find your way to the Plat—”

Me: “Don’t say that word! I hate that word.” My arms break out into hives. I scratch at the raised pink welts and say, “Perfect. Now I’m itching.”

Everyone: “What’s wrong? Don’t you want to go to the Platf—”

Me: “Stop! Don’t say it. Okay, I’ll get a blog.” The incessant itch spreads to my neck.  “Where do I even go to get a blog?”

Everyone: “Blog-Smart is the best place for beginners. They even have spring sales for the newly hatched blogglings.

Me: Sigh. “Fine.”

***

My eyelids squint against incandescent light that bounces off the white floor tiles. I crane my neck to view the signs in order to find the right aisle. I read to myself, “Starter-blog-kits, blog food, blog-map to the Platfo—”

“Welcome, to Blog-Smart. How can I help you today?”

I don’t want to be rude, so I force a smile. “Hi, I want to look at your blogs.”

“Wonderful! Do you want to adopt a mature blog or are you interested in a bloggling?” She reaches into the deep front pocket of her apple-green apron and hands me a coupon. “We have a sale on bloggling kits this month.”

“I’m not sure. I hadn’t thought about adopting. What’s the difference?”

“It’s easier if I show you. Let’s start in aisle seven.” She sets a brisk pace past several kiosks stacked with high-quality-organic-blog-treats.

I follow and the moment we turn down aisle seven I jerk to a stop. The shelves are lined with cages of various sizes. The smallest would fit in the palm of my hand. The largest could comfortably hold a large cat. Regardless of cage size, the inhabitants share similar characteristics. Dull eyes glare at me from withered and malnourished bodies.

I shuffle back a few steps.

“Don’t be afraid. These were once thriving blogs. Circumstances out of their control brought them to this state.” She pokes her finger between the bars of silver cage and rubs the flesh colored creature under what I imagine used to be a chin. Now, the poor thing looks like a miniature version of Jabba the Hutt.

“I, um—I don’t think these blogs are for me.”

“No? Okay, let’s go to aisle eleven.”

With averted eyes, I follow behind my guide and force myself to focus on her scuffed shoes.

Compared to the previous aisle, this one is a circus. Tiny blogglings, each the size of a thumbnail, flip, flop, and spring about in their cages.

“We received this batch this morning. They’re excited to get started on their blogging journey.”

I bend down and watch a yellow fury bloggling climb to the top of its cage and do a back flip.

Its neighbor runs in circles then every so often flops down and kicks tiny feet in the air.

“Why are they so hyper?”

She shrugs. “Most American blogs start out this way. They settle down after a few months.” She busies her self for a moment and re-arranges a few cages. “Are you interested in an imported blog? We have a few in stock.”

I shrug.

On tip-toes she reaches to the top shelf and lowers a small pink cage. “Here, this one arrived last week.”

I steady the cage on my open palms and observe a petite bloggling who sits cross-legged. Curious sea-green eyes peer at me. She blinks and long lashes threaten to tangle.

I read the name on the plaque: Agata Blog (Greek for pure blog). “Agata. I like that.”

“We call her Aggie Blog. She’s a curious little thing. But, calm too.”

“I like calm.”

Aggie and I study each other.

“Any idea what kind of blog she’ll grow into?”

My Blog-Smart guide answers, “No, that’s up to you and little Aggie.”

I slide my finger between the bars.

Aggie blinks but doesn’t move.

I trace the single curl of silver hair that spouts out of the top her head and cascades over her shoulder.

She leans her head into my touch and closes her eyelids.

“Okay, I’ll take her.”

“Excellent. I have a few forms for you fill out. We’ll need to register Agata Blog and then you’ll be all set. Don’t forget. She’ll need to be fed at least 5,000 words for the first few months. New blogglings have a high metabolism. Welcome to the wonderful world of blogging.” Her smile seems genuine enough. She studies me a few more seconds. “I assume, like many blog owners, you want little Aggie to help you reach Platfo­—”

I scratch my neck. “Yes, of course, but not right away. For now, we’ll just get to know one another.” I take Aggie out of her cage. She is so light-footed I don’t feel a thing when she dances up my arm and rests in the crook of my neck and shoulder. “Okay, Aggie. Let’s see what you and I can do.”

 

To be continued…

 

For all you bloggers out there, what tips can you share about the care and feeding of your blog?

Sook – Book One of The Purge War

I’m thrilled to have completed the manuscript for “Sook” – book one of The Purge War trilogy. Winner of the 2017 BRCWC First Impressions contest and finalist in the 2018 ACFW Genesis contest. What a journey!

Back Cover – Hatred for the Kelph has festered over generations. Like prey that runs from savage wolves, she is hunted. Always hunted. The repercussions for an untrained Kelph maiden are dangerous and exhausting.

A Purge War wages to obliterate BRIKKA ARDENSOOK’S people, the Kelph. Pure maiden blood makes her equally desirable and vulnerable.

Each day since her seventeenth birthday her “scent” grows stronger. In her quest to escape from crazed Landers she discovers more of her own kind, but the Kelph want her blood too.

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