A Peek Behind the Curtain: Hitting Pause


As every artist knows, our creativity ebbs and flows. Most artists dealing in other art forms, to my knowledge, aren’t told to create no matter what quite like writers are. My Facebook feed has been plastered lately with images that say things like “Write through writer’s block.” or “The only thing you have to do is write.” Along with other such mottos. The great “they” say this is the best advice a writer can have, however, for a year I’ve disagreed. Continue reading

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Ten Questions for a Fictional Character: Evelyn of A Christmas Alone



Photo by mconnors at morguefile.com



***Attention!!!*** This post contains spoilers about my story A Christmas Alone. To find this story, click here.


I sit at Evelyn’s kitchen table with her beside me and open my laptop.

“What are you doing?”

I say nothing, but after a moment, Corporal Nesbit’s face appears. “I wanted to interview you both.”

            Folding her arms, she huffs.

He nods to us both. “Thank you for allowing me to take part in this. Hello, Evelyn.”

“Evelyn, you seem upset with the corporal. Why is that?”

            “Because he’s a liar, that’s why.” She rolls her eyes. Continue reading

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Hey, everyone. 

I was cooking a whole chicken for the first time tonight (I’ve actually never cooked with chicken at all) and my post completely slipped my mind! I was too absorbed by what I was doing. Haha 

I’ll have the post up tomorrow afternoon. You will still have your Monday post, I promise.

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A Christmas Alone: Part IIII


Photo by timatkins at morguefile.com

***Attention!*** For part I of this story, click here, for part II, click here, for part III, click here.


Christmas had come and gone and I still hadn’t replied to Nesbit. His story hung over me like a cold mist. Last night, at my mother’s New Year’s party, she had asked me about him and I hadn’t known what to tell her.

Sitting down on my couch, I gaze at the tree I have yet to take down. What do I say to him? If his story is true, then God saved him but condemned Chris, my sweet, good, brave, and honest Chris, to die. If it’s not true, then everything I grew up believing is still a lie.

The tree sparkles in the dark, my eyes falling on the angel hidden in the branches just below the star. Each beat of my heart aches more than the last. My tears come whether I want them to or not.

“If you’re there,” I say, to God, or maybe to the air, “then why? I believed in you for my whole life. I went to church and sat through so many boring services. I tithed. I prayed. I read my bible. I even celebrated the birth of your son when others told me he doesn’t exist. The least you owe me is an answer.” I roll my eyes at my own stupidity.

My computer dings from the kitchen table. Continue reading

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Happy Holidays!

A very merry Christmas, happy Hanukkah, and a happy New Year to you and yours!   

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A Christmas Alone: Part III


Photo by timatkins at morguefile.com


***Attention!!!*** Find Part I here, and Part II here.


2 Days Later

After another wake-up slash reminder text from my mother, I roll off the couch and set down to my computer. Surely Corporal Nesbit has better things to do than write back to me. Then again, I’d think my mother would be busy enough not to bug me when she has four other kids.

I find myself smiling a little, in spite of everything, when a new message from him is there waiting for me. This time, thankfully, without a note from Mother. I wonder if she’s gone ahead and read this one too?

Hello Evelyn,

Do you mind me calling you that? Ma’am is stuffy and with so much structure around me every second I’d like to take a break from it. If you don’t mind.

As for the name of God, His I think I’ll stick to. Whether you mind or not. Not to be combative, but it’s saved me a time or two that I know of, and probably many more that I don’t. Like my great grandpa used to say, there are no atheists in foxholes. I didn’t believe that until my first tour the Christmas before last, but when you have a bomb refuse to explode in your face, you tend to realize God’s hand was at work holding the mouth of the lion shut, so to speak.

In case we don’t speak again until after Christmas,

            Wishing you a very merry Christmas,

                        Corp. Nesbit.

Rolling my eyes, I hit reply.


No, too formal. Delete.


What am I, his CO? Delete.

I tap my foot. What do I call this guy? I don’t care what he calls me, honestly, but his first name seems too…personal.


My husband would have agreed with your great grand but I don’t. Not anymore. Chris would still be alive if that were the case. I’m glad you survived but you’re clearly the exception and not the rule.

This being said, I would like to know the story if you find yourself with the time. If not, I get the gist. The other side screwed up and threw a dud your way and our side won in that moment.

Wishing you green, and no red,

                                  Evelyn. Continue reading

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Winter Delays

Hi, all. Just wanted to post a little heads up that Monday’s post will be delayed. I normally write them the night before I post (or more in advance when I can), but I’m not feeling too well at the moment. Nothing serious, just a little under the weather. 

I hope everyone is having a wonderful Christmas season with your friends and loved ones. I promise this writer hasn’t forgotten her readers! I just need a bit more time. 

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