August 29, 2019
Several people enjoyed the button prompt, so today’s question is:
What story comes to mind with this image? Use 69 words or less.
Here is my interpretation:
The streets lay deserted and dirty. The last flickering of an advert splashed against the buildings husk. Nature will encroach to claim back what is rightfully hers, once again. The structures will house animals and insects and plants will flourish as the cement and steel crumble and rust.
Please comment below and share your story.
April 23, 2019
What inspired your latest novel?
I have two nieces that live in two different states and created my adventure loving main character to stay in contact with them. It started as a poem and I later developed that into my story.
How did you come up with the title?
Because my character loves traveling and adventures the title seemed natural.
Is there a message in your novel that you want readers to grasp?
My purpose for this first book is to normalize disability for children. I use simple concepts like dancing on feet or wheels and singing out loud or signing with happy hands to accomplish this. I am a disability advocate and saw this as a way to connect my message with children.
How much of the book is realistic?
Other than disability being a normal part of life, the rest is a complete work of fantasy fiction.
Are your characters based on someone you know, or events in your own life?
Close friends call me Jellibean because they can see how much of myself I put into that character. She is positive, upbeat, and always ready to make a friend and learn something new.
Where can readers find you on social media and do you have a blog?
Do you have plans or ideas for your next book? Is it a sequel or a stand alone?
Oh yes! I have completed four Princess Jellibean books that are under publishing contract. The second is currently being illustrated. I have plans to write this series indefinitely and have a list of things I want my character to encounter including traveling around the world and experiencing other cultures.
Of the characters you have created or envisioned, which is your favorite & why?
Princess Jellibean is definitely my favorite. I love her wide-eyed wonder and insatiable curiosity.
Do you favor one type of genre or do you dabble in more than one?
I love writing fiction because it allows me to create something that didn’t exist before. I started with poetry and have written that since I was 10 years old. I do want to try to write some self help in the future since I have several ideas in mind.
Do you plan your stories, or are you a seat of the pants style writer?
I am a mix of both. For some stories I like to plot out what I want to happen and for others I just let the story flow. I just finished writing a bed time story that I had so much fun with because it just poured out.
What is your best marketing tip?
Find ways to connect with your readers and know your audience. My audience is children, so I think of things that they would connect with and have colorful, plastic cat ear headbands to hand out when they purchase a book. I also make necklaces that feature images of my main character they can purchase separately.
Do you find social media a great tool or a hindrance?
Social medical is a brilliant tool when leveraged correctly and often. You can build a fan base this way when you put in the effort and time.
OPTIONAL QUESTIONS
What do you enjoy most about writing?
It allows me to express myself and provides a creative outlet which recharges my batteries.
What age did you start writing stories/poems?
I wrote my first poem at 10 years old.
Has your genre changed or stayed the same?
No, I thought I would always write only poetry and could not have fathomed becoming a children’s book author.
What genre are you currently reading?
I have been reading self help type books for creatives.
Do you read for pleasure or research or both?
Both! I love to read for fun and I love to dig into a topic that intrigues me.
Who is your best supporter/mentor/encourager?
My husband, Glenn, is my muse and biggest supporter. Behind him is my parents and his mother.
Where is your favorite writing space?
Right now, I write wherever I can since I don’t have a desk. We are currently planning to convert our unused dining room into a creative writing space.
Do you belong to a writing group? If so which one?
Yes, I belong to the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators, and just applied to be a member of the Cat Writers Association.
If you could meet one favorite author, who would it be and why?
Elizabeth Gilbert. Her book Big Magic is full of such wonderful sage advice about being fearlessly creative.
Do you see writing as a career?
I see writing as being my next level. I call it my retirement plan.
Bio:
Cindi Handley Goodeaux is a Florida resident who lives with her husband and muse. She is a proud mom, graphic designer wannabe, rescue dog lover, and a sometime poet. She is a member of the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators.
December 19, 2018
Use these words in a short story or poem: icy, horse drawn carriage, heat.
I’ve shared mine below.
Winter Treat
An arm to steady me as I tread on the icy path
Thick warming coats help keep the cold at bay
The ground glistens in the early morning sun
I so wish I could stay beside the hearth
My husband’s hands raise me gently upward
Into the horse drawn carriages interior
A winter ride along country lanes
My breath visible with words uttered
With a tartan blanket across our knees
The driver cracks the whip high in the air
The carriage jolts forward as we snuggle
My smile shows he has successfully pleased
Rosy cheeks and laughter are the heralds
For our return with the noon day sun
The heat of the fire is most welcome
A clink of glasses to wintertime.
Please share yours in the comments.
December 12, 2018
Today’s prompt is a Christmas themed story.
Mine is here:
The Bandstand
From the outside the Christmas tree glittered and sparkled with lights, tinsel and ornaments. It’s place in the bay window as always. Miriam gazed at the symbol of Christmas shining like a beacon of family and cheer. Pulling her coat more tightly around her, she walked on stopping at each window to gaze at the many Christmas trees on display along the street.
At the corner she entered the park, the light dimmed the further she walked away from the streetlights. The only beacon of light came from the old bandstand decorated for the season by local authority workers the week before.
She looked forward to attending the carol service the following week – a regular occurrence each year. After looking this way and that, Miriam pushed aside a panel on the side of the bandstand and crawled in.
This was home, a safe place hidden from sight and as comfortable as she could make it. A platform made of old pallets kept her off the cold wet earth, cardboard and an old single mattress on one side and food supplies on the other. She’d been able to hook up a little heater scrounged from a dumpster, to an electrical outlet on the underside of the bandstand to keep warm. To disguise her apartment she’d placed panels on each side so even if the workers crawled under they would not see her. Well, that was her hope.
A can of soup and a stale loaf made a meal and then she lay down to sleep.
Arthur tugged at his dog’s leash.
“Come on, Duke, its getting cold and I need a cup of tea.”
The old dog ignored him and continued to sniff the grass unaffected by his owner’s impatience. As Arthur tapped his foot, he saw a shadow approach the bandstand and disappear under it. Well that’s odd, it’s too late for authority workers and I can’t see a truck. Duke pulled on the leash and Arthur followed him down the path to home. The incident left his mind until two nights later when once again walking Duke; he saw the shadow repeat the disappearance into the bandstand. Now he was curious.
The following evening he walked closer to the bandstand but hid behind a clump of bushes. A figure appeared after sundown and with a glance back and forth crawled under. The person was wrapped up in an old assortment of clothes and could have been man or woman; it was too hard to tell. Was there a homeless person under the bandstand? Well that is sad. Once he returned home he pondered what would be the best thing to do. Report them? Engage them? Leave food and blankets nearby? I’ll sleep on it and make a decision tomorrow.
Miriam saw a box to one side of her secret entrance and stopped in her tracks. Was it discarded, some local workers possession or something else? She looked around but did not see Arthur crouched behind the bushes. Cautiously she approached the box and raised the lid with one foot. Inside were cans and a thick blanket. Conflicting thoughts entered her head. Someone knows where I live, I’ll have to move, a kind benefactor has left me a gift, do I take it or leave it? A slip of paper fluttered and caught on the breeze, she grabbed it before it blew away. A hand written note read:
Hello,
Please do not be alarmed, I will keep your secret but wanted to help you. I have put some supplies in the box. I know it is getting colder and food is probably hard to come by. I happened to notice you while walking my dog one evening. If you need anything my name is Arthur and I live at number 36 Amber Avenue just across from this park.
Miriam read the note twice, it was a long time since someone had been so kind to her. She made up her mind to thank him but to say this gift was enough.
The next evening she took her note and walked Amber Avenue searching the house numbers. To her surprise and delight, number 36 was the house of her favourite tree nestled in the bay window. Tiptoeing carefully, she pushed her note through the letterbox and turned away. A bark halted her tracks. Fearful the dog’s warning would alert Arthur to come to the door, Miriam hid around the corner of the house.
The front door did indeed open and a wet nose and wagging tail found her with ease, followed by an elderly gentleman.
“Well hello, you must be the mysterious bandstand occupant.”
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t want to disturb you, I was leaving a note of thanks. I don’t want to be a bother.”
“No bother at all, it would be lovely to have company, apart from Duke for a change. Why not come in for a cup of tea?”
“Oh, I don’t know, I’m rather dirty to enter a house.”
“Nonsense, just take off your boots, old Duke here comes in with more mud and dirt than anyone I know.”
Miriam took off her boots, curling her toes to try and hide the holes in her socks. Arthur led her into the front room, a fire flickered in the fireplace and that tree stood in pride of place.
“Oh, its so much more beautiful than through the window.”
Arthur smiled. “I always take pride in decorating my tree, the family only come on Boxing Day for the afternoon but its not Christmas without a tree, I always say.”
“I walk past all the houses and look at all the trees and this is my favourite.”
“Well, that’s is kind of you to say. May I ask your name?”
“It’s Miriam.”
“Well, I will make the tea, why not take off your coat and sit by the fire?”
Miriam eased the coat off her shoulders and lay it on the floor. The warmth of the fire was wonderful. Arthur walked in with a tray with a teapot, cups and biscuits.
“Now we can get warm inside and out. Take as many biscuits as you like.”
With the strong tea and several biscuits inside her and the warmth of the fire, Miriam could feel herself getting sleepy.
“Thank you so much for the tea and biscuits and the lovely blanket and food. I should go before I fall asleep.”
“Well, it is up to you but you are more than welcome to stay if you would like.”
A tear rolled down Miriam’s cheek.
“Oh dear, I’m sorry did I upset you?”
“No, no not at all. It has been such a long time since someone has been kind to me, that’s all.”
“Well that settles it. Have a nap and then you can enjoy a bath while I make supper. I should have plenty of clothes in my closet you can choose from, we are close to the same size I think.”
“I don’t know what to say but thank you so very much, this is the best Christmas ever.”
“Tis the season, as they say and it brings me joy to help you.”
Bathed, dressed in clean clothes and feeling peaceful, Miriam re-joined Arthur later to find he had cooked a feast of a meal for them both.
“Are you expecting more people? There is a lot here.”
“No just us two but you are welcome to take the leftovers.”
“You are so kind, thank you.”
“And if I may, I would like to ask you if you would visit me from time to time, I get so lonely you see.”
“I would love to visit again.”
Their glasses clinked as they smiled at each other. Their loneliness forgotten.
I would love to read your story or poem.
December 5, 2018
It’s been raining for days – this is your prompt starter for a poem or short story. Have fun with it.
I wrote this poem.
The Sky Is Low
Clouds rolling overhead
Dark and foreboding
Static in the air
Heralding the storm.
Clouds boiling
Lowering the sky
A flash of lightening
Then thunder booming
Heavy raindrops fall
Hit and splash
Blurred images
Through windowpanes
Dust turns to mud
Feathers and fur sodden
Leaves bent in submission
Drips turn to streams
The scent of rain
Refreshes the acrid heat
Dripping, splashing, cleansing
Welcome relief
