Stories Untold

D’Artagnan Leslie Stanford was tired of feeling out of place once again. This time it was where Goths and metalheads gathered. She had never really felt in place anywhere at any time in life, much less a trendy club. Putting on a good front most of the time, but the reality was she felt horrid most days, as if she were not part of the human race. Paying for her drink, and tossing back her long hair she headed toward the exit to start her walk home. “Excuse me. Hey, wait. Please don’t go!” said a voice barely audible above the pounding music. Leslie turned around to see a tall, young, long haired man about her age walking a few steps behind her. She was about to hit the exit of the newly opened club, Rage. Not being the type who would normally venture out alone to a loud, crowded heavy metal club, she was a bit startled by the sound of this stranger’s voice. “Are you talking to me?” Looking around, Leslie scanned the area to make sure there was no vampy vixen he was chasing a

What an amazing day at the Nimrod conference for readers and writers. How lucky am I to get to live where so many diverse authors congregate? Meeting and talking to award winners, beginners, old hats, is nothing less than humbling and inspiring. There was no conflict, or separation of class, race, or any of the other constraints that tend to push us apart in our every day lives. Only human beings discussing, sharing, and honing their craft. A wonderful exchange between minds and souls that left at least one of those human word crafters rejuvenated,inspired, and honored. Two of my favorite moments today come from the very eloquent Robin Coste Lewis. We were having our lunch in the great hall and she came in and sat at our table. I was completely and utterly speechless. I tend to get that way around writers. I especially go dumb around poets. I would have no problem approaching any actor, the president,or anyone else, however writers...yeah...I lose it. There is so

What an amazing day at the Nimrod conference for readers and writers. How lucky am I to get to live where so many diverse authors congregate? Meeting and talking to award winners, beginners, old hats, is nothing less than humbling and inspiring. There was no conflict, or separation of class, race, or any of the other constraints that tend to push us apart in our every day lives. Only human beings discussing, sharing, and honing their craft. A wonderful exchange between minds and souls that left at least one of those human word crafters rejuvenated,inspired, and honored. Two of my favorite moments today come from the very eloquent Robin Coste Lewis. We were having our lunch in the great hall and she came in and sat at our table. I was completely and utterly speechless. I tend to get that way around writers. I especially go dumb around poets. I would have no problem approaching any actor, the president,or anyone else, however writers...yeah...I lose it. There is so

     So I never came back to revisit the dog days of summer.  It seems as though everything in my life that could happen or go wrong did, but let's just say that I do believe that dog days were for the most part behind us. Well, that is until this week where we've had heat indexes in the hundreds, but as for everything there is a season...including the seasons.  ( closest thing to humor I can manage at the moment)       I have had many, sobering, hard, thoughts, as of late. I am not exactly sure where it is all coming from, and I say as of late, but I suppose they have been there for a very , very, very, long time. I have just chosen to stifle them and try and be "that girl". You know, who that girl is right? The one that everyone else thinks you should be. The one that is always someone else's vision of you...but it's not you. Oh there are some sniplets that are you but mostly just hidden by other's perception.        Now that is not to say that I have

    Can you feel it? I know I can feel it. I can feel it all the way to my bones.   The dog days of summer was something that I heard growing up and never thought I thing about the saying. I was raised in the country and figured it was just something the older folks said in reference to their dogs and how hot it and they would get. What did I know I was a kid. It is not. Well it's mostly not.    For any of you that might not know the dog days of summer refers to ...and I'll give you the explanation as my dictionary has it because as someone once said, someone else has already written about it better than you so if it ain't broke... The   sultry   part   of   the   summer,   supposed   to   occur   during   the   period  that   Sirius,   the  Dog   Star,   rises   at   the   same   time   as   the   sun:   now  often   reckoned   from   July   3   to   August   11. A  period   marked   by   lethargy,   inactivity,   or   indolence.                            

<a href="http://www.bloglovin.com/blog/18161125/?claim=3qttbaxdhz4">Follow my blog with Bloglovin</a>    I am quite sure it's true that if my blog were a person it would be very miffed at me at the moment. Sadly my other friend life took over and I quite frankly ignored my bestie, bloggie. However as soon as I figure out why I can't get rid of the Kermit green background I shall be back to giving you a peek into what goes on in my mind.  I'll go easy. Don't be scared.