Suzie’s House 7: There’s No Place Like Home
Suzie sat at the desk in the little alcove of her office. Sunlight poured through the windows in the rounded walls making the small office warm and inviting. She could see traffic pass, when she chose to look through the windows. Instead she stared at the checkbook which sat on the desk along with a pile of bills. She tried to ignore the thumping and bumping from the rooms overhead by focusing on the bills she could now pay. It wasn’t working. She dropped her head into her hands and closed her eyes.
She should never have allowed Miranda to move in, let alone Vin too. First month’s rent, last month’s rent, and deposits from them had allowed her to catch up on the mortgage payments, but Lord knew if it would be worth it. She wasn’t sure how she was going to feed them. Well, she would cross that bridge when the food ran out.
“Mom?” Ben put his hand on her shoulder and gave her a gentle nudge. “Is Vin moving into two bedrooms?”
“What?!”
“He’s putting boxes in both the other bedrooms. I mean besides the one Miranda took. Or he was. Now Vin and Miranda are arguing.”
Suzie shoved her chair back, making it scrape across the hardwood floor. She’d worry about the floor later. Right now she needed to find out what was going on with her new room mates.
Ben followed her up the stairs to the second floor. No need to hunt the combatants down, Vin and Miranda faced off in the widening of the upstairs hall at the top of the staircase.
“I need the space.” Miranda waved her arms for emphasis. Face flushed and eyes flashing, she looked thoroughly pissed off.
“I’ll bet,” Vin snarled. “Your shoes alone would fill my room.”
“You think my shoes would fill THAT room?” She pointed to the doorway behind Suzie, the one to the room between the bathroom at the back of the house and Suzie’s room at the front. “It’s the biggest room in the house.”
“No,” Vin said with forced patience. “MY room.” He pointed to the one across from the bathroom.
“Well then why are you putting stuff in that room?”
“It’s Drew’s. He’s moving in too.”
“Oh!” Miranda did a little cheerleader hop of enthusiasm. “You should have said so! So, I guess I’m in….” She looked around the hall, her eyes stopping at each doorway in turn. “Still in that one.” She sounded disappointed as she looked at the middle room wedged between Ben’s and Vin’s. “The one with a lovely view of the neighbor’s wall.”
“Let me get this right,” Vin said through tight lips. “You’ll give up the big room for Drew without a fuss, but you wouldn’t give it up for me?” Vin’s eyes narrowed. Though his wide face had a boyish charm under the tousled hair, he looked quite menacing. Suzie took a step back from the two of them.
Vin glanced at her, apparently noticing her for the first time.
“Suzie.” He put his back to Miranda and nodded a curt greeting to Suzie. One hand went to his back pocket. He drew a check out of his wallet and handed it to her. “This is for Drew’s room.”
Miranda pushed between Suzie and Ben to enter the largest room. Ignoring her, Suzie glanced at the check. It was from Drew and carried enough digits to make her jaw drop. “That isn’t what I’m charging.”
“No. It’s half of what he would pay if he stayed where he is now. He can afford it.”
With this much money Suzie could get some new school clothes for Ben as well as caviar for everyone in the house every day this month. She folded the check and put it in the back pocket of her jeans. “Thanks.”
“She doesn’t have to be so gleeful.” Vin sounded heart sick.
Uh oh. He still wasn’t over her. Suzie bit her lower lip. If he still cared after all Miranda had put him through, and Miranda was going to go after Drew in front of him, then life in the house could turn into a regular soap opera. She wasn’t at all sure the money would be worth watching Vin get hurt. If only Miranda would see what was right in front of her, rather than chasing men all over town.
“Vin.” Suzie put a hand out to him, wanting to re-assure him that everything would work out, whether it would or not.
With a stubborn set to his mouth, Vin shoved his way to the stairs, headed off for another load, no doubt. Suzie let her hand drop.
“I knew you would fix everything,” Ben said proudly, looking on her with admiration.
“I didn’t do anything.”
“But they stopped arguing. You should have heard them go at it before you got here. All you had to do was stand there and they worked it out. It’s like magic.” Ben grinned.
Suzie groaned. She wasn’t at all sure it was good for her son to see the grown ups around him carrying on. But there wasn’t much she could do about it now. If she tried to kick them out, she’d have to return the money, money she’d already spent.
It didn’t help to have Ben whistle a happy tune as he saunter off to his own room.
#
The previous was Suzie’s House 6: Back to Work
This is Suzie’s House 7: There’s No Place Like Home
Next is Suzie’s House 8: If You Can’t Stand The Heat, What Are You Doing In The Kitchen
Challenge 3, Chapter 2 TONIGHT!!
Yep, the round closes at 11 pm Mountain Standard Time tonight. I figured out what the schedule glitch was. We added two days to make up for the emergency poll, but I forgot to fix the calander.
I have two entries in progress with high hopes of getting them both in. Suzie only needs a quick polish, and will be posted late, late tonight or fairly early tomorrow. And I’m going to be “Least In Sight” for a few hours here.
Alice
48 Questions
1. What time did you get up this morning? 6:58, 7:08, and 7:28am Snooze alarm.
2. Diamonds or Pearls? Pearls
3. What was the last film you saw at the cinema? Eragon
4. What is your favorite TV show? I don’t watch TV
5. What did you have for breakfast? A bowl of cereal
6. What is your middle name? I have to have a middle name?
7. What is your favorite cuisine? Whatever I can get my hands on.
8. What foods do you dislike? I know there is some, but I can’t think of it off hand.
9. Your favorite Potato chip? I have no idea. I steal them off of Mr. Al’s plate.
10. What is your favorite CD at the moment? Peter Gabriel’s Up.
11. What kind of car do you drive? Subaru Legacy
12. Favorite sandwich? Ruben
13. What characteristics do you despise? In what?
14. What are your favorite clothes? Comfortable. Anything from Jeans to velvet skirts depending on what I plan to do in them.
15. If you could go anywhere in the world on vacation, where WOULDN’T you go? No such place.
16. Favorite brand of clothing? Brand? I make my own.
17. Where would you want to retire? I have no intention of ever retiring. If I’m so far out of it that I can’t write, then I’m too far out of it to know where I am.
18. Favorite time of day? Now. Later’s good too. Actually, that’s not true. I really like golden sunsets in August, but I’ll settle for whenever “now” comes around.
19. Where were you born? Texas
20. What is your favorite sport to watch? Gymnastics
21. Who do you think will not send this back? I’m not sending it, I’m posting it. I’m posting it because I’m tired of answering it over and over again. Now I can simply give the people who insist I fill it out a URL and be done with it.
22. Person you expect to send it back first? See 21
23. Pepsi or Coke? La Croixe, if anything.
24. Beavers or Ducks? Moose? If this is a sports thing you’re talking to the wrong gal.
25. Are you a morning person or night owl? Night owl.
26. Pedicure or Manicure? Neither.
27. Any new and exciting news you’d like to share? I do, regularly, right on this blog. Never could keep anything to myself.
28. What did you want to be when you were little? A writer.
29. What is your best childhood memory? Let’s not go there.
30. Piercing? Ears. I’ve considered nose, but it’s too prone to infection.
31. Ever been to Africa? I wish!
32. Ever been toilet papering? Yep. It wasn’t as fun as I thought it would be.
34. Favorite restaurant? China Buffet Inexpensive, fast, easy, kid-friendly, and tasty Can’t ask for more than that.
35. Favorite flower? If I think about it pansy I don’t generally think about flowers.
36. Favorite ice cream? Butter rum.
37. Favorite fast food restaurant? China Buffet? Please, no greasy frys. That kind of food makes me queasy.
38. How many times did you fail you drivers test? I don’t remember, thankfully.
39. From whom did you get your last e-mail? Anastasia, my mother, the grammar how-to loop, Ask An Author Pro, the ladies who were formerly on AOL but got run off by systems problems, and various FanLit Forever notices.
40. Which store would you choose to max out your credit card? Fabric store. Except my supply went into “Acquisition Beyond Life Expectancy ie ABLE” lone ago.
41. Bedtime? When the toothpicks holding my eyelids up break.
42. Who are you most curious about their responses to this? My mother, but I seriously doubt she’ll answer.
43. Last person you went to dinner with? Mr. Al.
44. What are you listening to right now? Silence. But now that you mention it I’ll go turn the radio on.
45. How many tattoos do you have? None. Not gunna either. And I’m not going to make any excuses for it either, so quit suggesting it.
46. How many people are you sending this to? I have no idea.
47. Favorite magazine? Romance Writer’s Review.
48. What time did you finish this e-mail? 8:41am
Alice
No More Wednesday Roundup For Writers.
The whole reason I started doing my little how to write mini lecture series was to accommodate May’s Wednesday Roundup in which she did links to about a dozen writers who all offered their suggestions on how to write.
May no longer does that.
Which means I can happily step down from my little soap box and stop doing these how-to write blogs. Seriously, considering that I am not a published author, I feel a bit silly offering advice.
This means my menu is going to suffer a shake up. I’m still planning on doing Suzie on Friday, but maybe I’ll move the recipes to Sunday I’m thinking of a Talk To Me Tuesday, if I can figure out how to do polls and things on a blog, but maybe not. I’ll let you know when I figure out what to do with the void.
Alice
How much SHOULD you let other writers influence you?
Clearly you don’t want to give up your own idea of a story in order to accommodate another writer’s idea. If you’re willing to do that then you might as well go around doing all the stories that non-writers perpetually offer to writers. “You know what you should write? You should write about my grandfather <or other relative, friend, favorite pet, or self> who <insert long boring monolog>.”
But it really helps to get some feedback, and sometimes that feedback can take a story in a different direction than I had originally thought, ways that I like.
So where do you draw the line?
Alice
Cocoa Conversion
It may not be a cookie, but it’s still sweet, and I thought the chocolate fit in with Valentine’s.
When there isn’t any more hot cocoa mix on the shelf and the kids have come in from the snow shivering and looking pathetic, this is one way to please them.
5 T. cocoa
1 c. sugar
2 c. powdered milk
Mix. Put about a quarter of a cup of mix into a tea cup. Poor boiling water into the tea cup. Stir. Can be served as is or cut with a little milk from the refrigerator, which works well to cool it for over eager mouths.
Bon Appetite
Alice
Validation. Who are you writing for?
Yesterday Sara made a commented on her blog about how silly the need for complements from other writers. I adamantly disagree.
I’ve said it before and I’ll no doubt say it again. Writing for yourself is like playing tennis with a wall. There’s a kind of satisfaction on a primal level that comes from the feel of the ball hitting the racket, the success of having caused the ball to leave your control then return to it as it bounces off the wall, and a kind of Zen-like trance from the repeated action that lends itself to peace and insight. But it’s not the same as playing tennis with another person. Writing, particularly when you get in the flow, is excellent therapy in and of itself. The process of spinning dreams into yarns enthralls me. But writing with no audience in mind but yourself isn’t the same as writing with the intention of being read by others.
I came to this conclusion after many, many years spent writing in isolation. It took me a couple of decades – yes, decades – to get my writing to anything remotely resembling reasonable, let alone good. Every time I shared what I did I got slammed. I bounced in and out of a number of writing groups, sometimes staying a few months and sometimes for years, but never sharing everything I did. Most of the over 3 million words I’ve written have never been seen by anyone but myself. Probably about 1 million of those words never will be, thank God.
Writing so much with no outside feedback helped me firm my voice. Maybe. Frankly my voice is very different in each of the stories I have written, and tends to reflect the material in question as much if not more than something about myself. So I’m not sure you can really say my voice is firm even now. But I am very confident about my vision for any given story. I think that comes from having done so much in isolation.
But writing without feedback has not been good for me in other ways. I have often found myself becoming hidebound over things that didn’t deserve my staunch support – be it unappealing characters, poor word choices, or muddy themes. Feed back – which at this stage I can only get from other writers as I’ve long since burned through all my non-writing friends and family – has made an enormous difference in my learning curve in the last two or three years. The more brutally honest, the better. But only so long as I know it is possible to wow the critiquer. If I think I have no hope of impressing her or him, I only get depressed.
Allowing myself to be influenced by my critique group has improved not only the work in question, but everything I write. I feel that in the last few months I hit a new plateau in quality. High, not low. *grin* I go back to my old work and my older work and I can see improvement. I like what I’m producing now better than what I did before. I can credit the writers who critiqued me both in FanLit Forever and in From The Heart Romance Writers.
So I say heck yeah I will be influenced. I won’t change my story to match what someone else would like to read just because my story is like their idea of it, but if I can make my story more interesting, more meaningful, or more fun by fishing for the “hey wow” response from other writers then why shouldn’t I enjoy the complements? Better to accept honest praise with a shit eating grin than to make my PTA buddies read yet another attempt at Romantic Suspense or Historical Romance or to shove yet another manuscript under the bed, or in my case the filing cabinet with no handle.
For me it isn’t silly at all. It’s a basic necessity.
Alice
To My Son
My son likes to lick. Nothing I do makes him stop. So when he licked my hand, I rubbed it all over his face. He laughed and turned his head this way and that. We were having a pretty good time with it. I told him to lick my hand again because it was drying off, and he started blowing at it to dry it faster. He was so cute going “puff, puff, puff” on my hand. So I threatened to blog about him. He doesn’t think I’ll really do it. Hah!
Alice
Suzie’s House 6: Back to Work
The tour of Suzie’s house ended right where it had begun. In the kitchen. Drew watched Suzie move to the stove where something good was cooking and turn all the burners back on. Conscientious woman, Suzie Hammacker. Drew liked that about her. Miranda, dressed in black leather and thigh-high boots, leaned against the counter to talk to Suzie. Lots of sex appeal there. Good fling material, were he so inclined.
“I need to talk to you. In private.” Vin’s voice came in low and mean like a stray dog, but Drew wasn’t worried. Whatever bothered his old friend could be worked out. It always was.
“Certainly. Let me give you a ride to your apartment.” Drew glanced over Vin’s shoulder at the ladies as he spoke, then leveled his gaze at Vin and spoke more slowly to convey his real meaning. “As we agreed before.”
Vin’s chin came up and he visibly checked his anger. “Ah. Yes. Of course.” He turned toward the ladies. “Suzie, we’ll get back to you about Drew’s room. I’ll take the one in back.”
“All right.” Suzie smiled uncertainly. Drew wasn’t sure she really wanted to rent out either room.
Be that as it may, he had other concerns. He nodded his farewells, and followed Vin to the Subaru. Vin got in his face, literally, grabbing the front of his polo shirt and snarling at him.
“Keep your hands off of Miranda.”
Drew wasn’t surprised. Without hesitation he said, “All right.”
Vin blinked a couple of times, apparently caught off guard by Drew’s easy acceptance.
“Are you telling me you don’t have any designs on her?”
“None. Mind you if she keeps throwing herself at me….”
Vin growled. For a moment Drew thought he might start swinging, which could prove interesting. Though more heavily built, Vin didn’t have as long of a reach as Drew. They had gone a round or two in their spare time when they were at Quantico together. In the last few years they hadn’t come to blows at all. It would be interesting to see what time had done to their technique.
Vin must be nuts about Miranda to be willing to do it in Suzie’s backyard, but if that was what he wanted, Drew would be quite happy to bring it on. Vin struggled with his temper, his face doing some interesting contortions. He released Drew’s shirt, then stomped around the car to the passenger’s seat. Safely hidden by the car, Drew grinned.
He had suspected for some time now that Vin might be more interested in Miranda than either of them let on. Not that he minded. Miranda wasn’t really his type. If anyone, Suzie…. No. Drew had no particular need for romantic entanglements at the moment.
He settled behind the wheel of his old Subaru Legacy before giving Vin an assessing look. “Want to see today’s footage? The camera is in the back seat.” Drew gestured in invitation. “You did some fancy driving.”
“I had to.” Vin reached between the seats for the camera. He fiddled with the buttons, then watched the playback screen intently. “They were out for blood today. Oooooh, That was closer than I realized. Hah! Nailed his partner in the rear finder.”
Drew started the car. “Notice we have the faces of the drivers from both cars. I’ve already got the connection between them and the web site.” He made a Y-turn in Suzie’s three-car parking lot, then eased up the narrow driveway to Jennifer Street.
For the last several weeks Drew had been working on all the ins and outs of the case. He wanted more than a slap on the wrist for the founder of an internet based club whose stated mission was to turn America’s streets into a demolition derby. They played a number of games, racking up points for the amount of damage they could do to a car without paying for it. Hit and Run for Hit Points they called it. They used cab drivers as hockey pucks in several of their games.
Though he had enough evidence to put most of the members away, he wanted the founder of the game more than anyone. So far the founder had been very illusive. A few days ago Drew had unearthed a connection he thought might help him flush out the self styled Smash Master.
“I think the man in the blue mustang is the founder’s best friend. Notice the grin on his face?” Drew turned at the end of the block.
“I’ll bet he ran straight to his buddy and told him how much fun he had beating up on the taxi driver in the red barrette.” Vin looked quite smug. The barrette was his idea, intended to give the club something to focus on. “Did you check the web site to see if they have anything more about us?”
“Haven’t had the chance yet.” Drew turned on Willy Street headed for Shenks Corners. “I’ll check their blogs after I drop you off. I did hear from the home office, though.” Drew kept his eyes on the road. Vin wasn’t going to like what Drew had to say, but it had to be said.
“Vin, I might have to take you off the case.”
“Not on your life, buddy!” Out of the corner of his eye Drew saw Vin put the camera down. “We’ve almost cracked this case. You can’t cut me out now.”
“There’s been a fatality. A cab driver in Chicago. I can’t in good conscience expose you to the level of risk we are now facing.”
“Did anyone claim the hit on their Hit Counter?”
“Yes. The Smash Master.”
“So that’s why he wasn’t taking our bait.” Vin sounded thoughtful, and not the least bit concerned. “He was out of town. We’ll get him now for sure.”
Drew stopped at the light, the last one before Willy Street turned into Atwood Avenue, and leveled his friend with a hard look. “Do you have any idea how dangerous what we are doing could get? There isn’t much I can do from the Subaru to keep them from forcing you into a tree or a building.”
“Better me than some cab driver who doesn’t know what’s going on.”
“But any other cab driver would simply pull over and call in for an accident report.”
“Which is what makes hunting me so much more fun for them. We did it on purpose, remember? I didn’t go into this deal blind. I knew what I was doing when I offered to help. I’ve faced worse danger in the line of duty.”
“Yes, but you’re a civilian now. The rules are different for civilians.”
“Bend them.” Vin’s eyes flashed angrily.
That was the problem with Vin. He never could live by the rules. Drew bit back on a sharp retort.
“I know what you’re thinking, but you won’t say it because you need me.”
Drew ground is molars together, refusing to rise to the bait.
“You won’t kick me off the case because if you do then Smash Master will get away from you. You know he will. You can’t get anyone in for a small-time case like this quickly enough to replace me. He will slip through your fingers without me.”
Drew opened his mouth to argue, then clamped it closed again. He really did need Vin. Though he didn’t want to use him, letting him go would set the case back more than he cared to contemplate. And they both knew it.
He gave Vin a dirty look. Vin grinned and waggled his head in smug victory. “So I’m still on the case?”
“You’re still on.”
“Good, because the light went from green to red and green again and there’s someone behind us.”
With a grunt Drew put the Subaru into gear.
.
The previous was Suzie’s House 5: …. Or Completely Devastated.
This is Suzie’s House 6: Back to Work
Next is Suzie’s House 7: There’s No Place Like Home
Winter
Before we turn the weather front corner into spring, I’d like to offer one last tribute to winter.
How would you like to sit here?
Notice the van above? Now check out the other side of it.
According to the email that had these pictures in it, these are all of Versoix Switzerland, a town near Geneva. The lake in the background is Leman Lake. Apparently the lakefront there looks like this every winter.
.
Alice
Where to Start A Story
Readers who haven’t tried their hand at writing tend to belittle the problem of where to start. They don’t see the characters lives starting out before the first word, or the little silly things like the way a character spends a day. The characters don’t live for them the way they might for a writer. From inside the lives of the characters it isn’t so clear where an event really begins.
So how do we bridge the gap between the imaginary world of a character’s life and the starting point of the dramatic world of a characters story? In other words, where should a story begin?
The author needs to step back. One way to step back it to look at the story with the Hero’s Journey in mind. The journey starts with the mundane world, the world those characters would consider normal. This gives the reader a point of reference by which to judge what comes next.
In most cases the mundane world can be set up with little more than a couple of paragraphs. It seems too trivial to bother with, but consider that for a vampire what is normal isn’t the same as what is normal for Suzy Home Maker. Taking the time to show the reader which end of the spectrum we are starting from won’t go amiss.
Next, and this is still part of the beginning of the story, comes The Call To Adventure. In other words, the character will be tempted, or forced, to do something he or she would not normally do.
You want to get to this part fairly quickly, because it’s where the story really takes off. Many books incorporate The Mundane World into The Call To Adventure. This can work perfectly well, and can sometimes be mixed with, or the first scene end with, The Crossing of The Threshold. Once you’ve hit the crossing, there’s no turning back. However, rushing through the steps too quickly can cause problems.
It’s easy to tell when you’ve missed the mark. Miss placed beginnings tend to be either confusing or boring. Or in my case, a little of both.
Generally when it’s confusing the first scene opens too far past where the story really begins, in other words, too late in the storyline. This happens a lot when an author tries to “jump into the action” in search of a hook. Too much ground covered too quickly makes it hard to understand what is going on or why the characters are doing what they are doing.
Just as often having jumped into an action scene right at the beginning can lack meaning, which is boring. This is where I end up with beginnings that are both confusing and boring.
Most of the time when it’s boring, the author is filling in too much backstory, or focusing on something that doesn’t offer your protagonists a challenge. In other words, the writing starts too early in the storyline. Looking at the character’s goals, motives, and conflicts can clear this up.
Miss placed beginnings can result from an author’s attempt to include something about the characters that would be better handled in flashback. Starting with a scene involving nothing of significance to the rest of the story tends to cause boredom, and confusion. Focusing on an image, no matter how powerful an image, can make a good hook, but be the wrong way to start a book if the image doesn’t set up the changes the protagonist will have to make.
Any number of things can derail a story in the first scene. But every bad beginning has an easy remedy. Remove it, and put in one that caters to the needs of the story.
.
Alice
When Should You Complain About Your Doctor?
Mr. Al thinks it should complain now. I’m not so sure. And really, my problem is with the receptionist more than with the doctor.
See, the doctor said I had to see a specialist, and that the specialist in question would have his office contact me to set up an appointment. It never happened. So I called today to let my doctor know the specialist’s office didn’t call, which is what my doctor told me to do, and to see when the results of my poop samples would be back.
What I got from my doctor’s receptionist was the phone number for the specialist, which I already had, and a vague comment about the results being mailed to me when they were ready. Pardon me? I was in the hospital for 10 hours over this. I think a brush off is a little cavalier. But I dutifully called the specialist to make the appointment and let the rest slide.
I got an answering machine saying the office of the specialist would be closed until February 26th. So I called my doctors office back and asked whether or not my condition was stable enough to wait that long or if I should seek a different specialist. Without consulting anyone or even hesitating long enough to flip open my file the receptionist said I should leave a message on the specialist’s answering machine and wait for them to call me to make the appointment. In other words, she gave me the brush off.
I’ll have you know that I am no wimp. My doctor knows this, and has had words with her receptionist in the past for giving me appointments weeks after a medical emergency. I don’t go running off to the hospital for no particular reason, especially at 5 am. And I really dislike the brush off. But I consider it par of the course and generally let it slide.
Mr. Al doesn’t see it that way. He thinks the receptionist is negligent for giving out medical advice to patients without consulting a doctor. He thinks I should write a letter to the doctor with a carbon copy to be sent to hospital, for which she is a member of the board of directors.
What do you think? Is it worth rocking to boat, or not? Or maybe what I should really do is find a doctor with a good receptionist.
.
Alice
Chocolate Chip Cookies
What could be more classic? Here’s my favorite, right off the chocolate chip bag. 😀
Those of you who know me are probably waiting for the alterations. I’m almost tempted to say “don’t mess with perfection” but perfection is a relative term. For instance my son won’t eat anything with nuts, so I generally just leave them out with no apparent harm to the recipe. They can even be made as given above without the chips and come out just fine. Mint chips, butterscotch chips, and chunks of white chocolate can all be directly substituted and you’ll get a good, gooey cookie every time. Just don’t leave them in the oven too long.
Bon Appetite
.
Alice
PS for those of you on pingback, the recipe is in an image file. You have to click over here to see it.
Moe and Joe
This joke is probably going to sound morbid, taken in context. But honest, it came in the mail yesterday and I thought what the heck. I’ll share. 😀
.
Two 90 year old men, Moe and Joe, have been friends all of their lives.
When it’s clear that Joe is dying, Moe visits him every day. One day
Moe says, “Joe, we both loved baseball all our lives, and we played
minor league ball together for so many years. Please do me one favor,
when you get to Heaven, somehow you must let me know if there’s
baseball there.”
Joe looks up at Moe from his death bed,” Moe, you’ve been my best
friend for many years. If it’s at all possible, I’ll do this favor for you.
Shortly after that, Joe passes on.
At midnight a couple of nights later, Moe is awakened from a sound
sleep by a blinding flash of white light and a voice calling out to him,
” Moe–Moe.”
“Who is it?, asks Moe sitting up suddenly. “Who is it?”
“Moe–it’s me, Joe.”
“You’re not Joe. Joe just died.”
“I’m telling you, it’s me, Joe,” insists the voice.”
“Joe! Where are you?”
“In heaven”, replies Joe. “I have some really good news and alittle
bad news.”
“Tell me the good news first,” says Moe.
“The good news,” Joe says,” is that there’s baseball in heaven.Better yet,
all of our old buddies who died before us are here, too. Better than that,
we’re all young again. Better still, it’s always spring time and it never
rains or snows. And best of all, we can play baseball all we want, and
we never get tired.”
“That’s fantastic,” says Moe. “It’s beyond my wildest dreams!
So what’s the bad news?
“You’re pitching Tuesday.”
Suzie On Hold
I didn’t make it. Can you tell? I’m sorry but Suzie is going to have to wait until next Friday when Suzie’s House will make it’s regularly scheduled appearance.
In other news, I got my samples in and am feeling much better. Still no appointment for the cysts, but I’m not too worried. One of the pains is completely gone and the other not bothering me much.
I’m going to go work on Suzie now. Anyone got anything in particular they’d like to see the characters do?
Alice
