Musings at The End of The Day

Another day has passed without calamity, without personal tragedy, without mishap. Days like this must be savored and remembered. All days are not so sublime.

Friends and relatives have contacted me on e-mail. I feel special when they ask for advice or just want to visit.

As for advice: How do you stop a puppy from whining? That's what one grandaughter asked. I don't know. I suggested letting it sleep with them, but I don't think her hubby agreed.

Another grandaughter critiqued my blog, particularly the part about the story. It was a good suggestion. One I will take to heart when I do the re-write.

My new novel group is exciting. We are going at a faster pace. A chapter a week. We all plan to submit sometime this summer. There are four of us and it amazing how varied the topics are.
One is about the mideast. I'm learning a lot from it. One is about a child's endeavor to become a professional ballet dancer. There's a lot more to dancing than meets the eye. The other one is
about a child that is placed in a mental institution at the age of seven. It isn't as bad as you'd think it would be, but the plot takes you into her mind. All of these authors are very good. I am thankful to be in their company.
My novel, by comparison, seems trite. It is about a mother and daughter who through no fault of their own are almost penniless and they decide to go to Arizona to find jobs and enjoy the nice weather. Lots of things happen on the way. Well, they're fun to write. I don't know what they're going to do next. Until next time, Jo

Try, Try Again

I really worked on a blog last night and when I pushed post it evidently lost it. "Sorry for the inconvenience," my computer said. Won't tell you what I said to the computer! Glad it's not voice activated. Ha, ha, just kidding.

I submitted my poem to the group and got one critique so far. They thought I didn't show enough emotion. I will re-vise it.
Now I must concentrate on my short story. The prompt is: a fractured family attempts a reunion. I think I'll try my hand at a murder mystery. Never done that for this group.
Wish me luck.

Let's see:

Blood spurted from Jason's hand as he nicked it on the mailbox while retrieving his mail. He stopped the flow with a handkerchief and waved the blood splattered letter in the air to dry it.
He read the return address.: Charles Sqaab, Dayton, Ohio.
"I don't know anyone by that name." He shivered in the frosty fall air. A fearful feeling came over him and he didn't want to open the letter.

How's that for a hook? Do you want to read more?

We're getting company from SD this evening and he'll be with us a couple of days. Deadline for this story is the 10th so I must get going.
if you read my blog but don't want to sign up you can comment on my e-mail nicjo@npgcable .com bye for now JOan

Try, Try gain