Sep 23, 2020 Do you love the rain? I love a good warm rain. Not the super cold, freeze-your-fingers-off kind of rain. But the kind of rain you can run in, and splash in, and play in. The Makings of an Original Poem When Scott and I were first married, I lived in a hotel in California while he finished up his second phase of military training. I spent a lot of days in the hotel by myself as I was working remotely and didn’t have anywhere else to go. One evening, when Scott w

Sep 7, 2020 The following is a poem I wrote many moons ago when babysitting two cute little cousins. They were very energetic boys and kept me active throughout the day. After I got them to bed, I relaxed on the couch and listened to the sounds of a quiet house. Enjoy! Sleep Only a while ago their fumes died. Their tiny engines— those keep-go engines. The ones chasing and yelling changed their purrs into idle putters. Now, no squeak or hum. No wide eyes. Their fuel carries

Feb 7, 2020 You have a story. Let me say that again. YOU have a story. Really. It’s true. It’s there. You know how I know? You’re alive....

Jan 30, 2020 “How so?” I asked. At first, Seven didn’t say anything. He looked at his hands, as if studying them. “How so?” I demanded again. “How can you, who looks like a slave here, help me?” “I’m not a slave,” Seven said quietly. “No? Then what are you?” Seven drew in a long breath and slowly let it out. “I’m, well…” He paused. “I was supposed to be a minister, but…” “A minister?” I questioned and laughed Seven scowled. “I’m supposed to be a seven!” He narrowed his eyes

Jan 28, 2020 Naively, I thought everything would be okay when we got outside. Freedom is in the sun, right? Freedom is outside, away from what lay behind that horrible metal door, right? So wrong. Outside was fenced in, surrounded by sky-high, white brick walls. There was a giant courtyard, yes, full of lush grass and more plants that looked exotic and unfamiliar. Walkways wove through the grass with soft-looking benches lining the sides. Men and women, no children I noticed,

Jan 25, 2020 The man at the desk glared at me—not just stared—GLARED, in silence. Wondering what he was thinking and why he wasn’t answering me, I stared back, noticing his bald head and white, clean clothes. Was he wearing a one piece? Uncomfortable from all the staring and glaring, I looked away, back to the mud-colored walls and orb sconces. The place was lit, bright, but looked like the inside of a cave. The walls curved into the ceiling, creating a rounded, elongated arc

The ball park, luckily, was in my town. We were lucky we didn’t end up in some random part of the world. I was still very confused about how this whole traveling between worlds thing was actually happening. Maybe I should start from the beginning. I’m Willa Thompson, the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter. Yes. I’m the youngest of seven girls, and my mother was also the youngest of seven girls. Why is that important? We’ll get to that. While the rest of my siblings were o

Jan 7, 2020 “Run!” I looked up from my food to see Seven running at full speed in my direction. “Why?” I mumbled through a mouthful of meat—I wasn’t sure what I was eating but it was delicious. Seven sped past me before realizing I wasn’t following. Grumbling, he rushed back and yanked my arm, forcing me to stand and drop my food to the white sand. “Now it’s ruined,” I scowled. That was the best food I’d had in days. “Pick your girly butt up and run. Now!” I looked to the o

Aug 23, 2019 I know what you’re thinking: Journaling? Really? Isn’t that boring? Okay, so I don’t truly know if you’re thinking that, but...

Nov 20, 2018 This dragonfly writing prompt comes from TheJitteryJunebug.com. First, before I begin, do you know what dragonflies mean? I looked it up once because suddenly I saw dragonflies everywhere. One poor little guy died in the garden area at work. The next day I saw one fly through Walmart. And then one landed in my garden at home. What? I didn’t see dragonflies like this when I was a kid. (Or maybe I wasn’t paying attention.) So, this is what I found: The dragonfly t

Jan 10, 2014 The following is an original poem I wrote way back in college when I took a poetry class as part of my creative writing major. I had never been very good at writing poetry. Or maybe I just wasn’t super interested in it. My professor encouraged all the students to keep a writing journal and jot down thoughts and poems. I would sit in bed with my journal propped on my leg and try to think of something to write, something that could maybe turn into a poem. My mind

© elavuk81 / Adobe Stock The day I wrote this poem I wrote the word stillness in my journal as a word to focus on throughout the day, because when we find stillness and allow our minds to let go of all the stuff, we find enlightenment and creativity. One thing I’ve noticed in the last few years: I’ve let the world dictate my thoughts on what I should be doing with my time. I have not given myself over to pure creativity, to taking a thought and letting myself run with its im

© Makism Shebeko / Adobe Stock Good-bye is a short story I wrote for fun. I hope you enjoy it. Good-bye – A Short Story Roger stormed up the porch and pounded on the screen door. His face was flushed and his hands clammy; yet, he wasn’t going to let that deter him. This had to happen. If he was going to move on, if he was going to rid himself of her, if he couldn’t have her, this was he way it must be. He waited close to a minute, he was sure, before he pounded a second ti

Book recommendations that you need to read now. 😊 I admit it, I love to read. I’m sure you’ve figured that out by now since I’m an author. And what author do you know who hates to read? Not many, I assume. Because I like books so much, I thought I’d share my favorites with you. These books don’t fit into a neat category, ’cause I read so many different things. But their writing and storytelling are beautiful. Below, check out my 5 book recommendations that you should read

I was a teenager at a girls camp with my church. It was the last night–a night of presentations from the camp leaders. One of the leaders...

© zakalinka / Adobe Stock Write to heal because it is your right to heal. Writing has power. It is power. It can help us organize our...