Story Saturday

ETHAN FOSTER (PART 1)... PREVIEW

Grandma Danford had no statement to come back to the stranger. She simply cleared her throat and moved on to find out about Nicholas’ education. Grandma Danford had an opinion on all subjects brought up and she freely spoke them as the whole family knew they were indebted to her someway or another. Though Grandma Danford hardly spoke to Ethan, which could be seen as rude to not be gracious to a guest but Grandma Danford was at a loss when some one spoke out. But Emmy did find out that Ethan was from a prominent family in Sussex with a large estate there.Julia said it was such a it was such a shame that he was such a dull because he was very rich. If he had more of personality she would see him as a much better friend to Nicholas.

“Out of all the friends Nick has I find him the least interesting, I do not wish mother insisted for Nick to bring him. Last week he read us some of the the tales of King Arthur and never so much had I wanted Lancelot dead as I did that night. Though I suspect mother has long wanted us to marry, I guess that is why mother insisted on him.”

“So you do not like him?” Emmy asked her shyly.

“Heavens no, English men are so dreary and irksome.”

“He didn’t seem so at tea today.”

“Emmy, he hardly said five words,” Julia laughed at her cousin’s foolish swooning. “I wouldn’t

recommend you falling for him either, you are nearly eight years younger than him and I know you read novels but in real life men of wealthy families do not make unfortunate matches.”

“Thank you cousin for your warning and if my mind was going that way your warning would be wise but it wasn’t, you can have him.”

“Yes cousin,” Julia gave Emmy a smile a smile as if she didn’t believe her.

Emmy wouldn’t admit it to anyone but secretly and suddenly she did have a crush on Ethan. He had a gentle smile and was very sweet to everyone. He also didn’t treat any of the Cromwells poorly because they weren’t in the same rank as he was. And this kind behavior would attract any girl to him. But she soon saw the dreary ways Julia spoke of and though he was sweet she also saw they had little in comm with each other. He had no interest in adventure in seeing anything beyond his nose, he even described the hills of Italy ordinary. How could any one describe the hills of Italy as boring or not want to see the Serengeti Plans, she thought.

“In my foolishness, I have dreamt of my first love so long it is no one wonder I lost my head over Ethan,” Emmy wrote in her journal. She realized Julia had changed and she could not share her secret crush to her. “I have had so many almost love. There was Peter but he pushed me in the creek on the fourth of July, when I was nine. Then there was Andrew, Marcus, Robert, and Finley of course they were just sporadic loves it was Patrick Cooper that was my true love and he hardly noticed me. And while I waited patiently for him I had crushes on another Marcus, a John and a William. But William paid more attention to his pet frogs than girls. And while I had all these almost loves, I dreamed of having my own love it was no wonder I took to Ethan who was kind and noticed the way my eyes shined when he read some Keats. But besides Keats Ethan shows a lack of passion I would need. He would actually be perfect for Laurel.”

For more of the story click here

For Ethan Foster (Part 2) click here

Creative Ways

I just found this blog FlutterHappy and I saw this posting... It was very interesting

Free Write Friday

Based off the [Fiction] Friday Challenge at Write Anything.

[Fiction] Friday Challenge #220 [Fiction] Friday Challenge #220 for August 12th, 2011

Include each of these items in your story. Priest, ring, magnifying glass, cat.
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Okay I am just suppose to right anything for 5 minutes....

I am not Catholic so it was strange to me that my mother said a Priest would be coming over to lunch today and I was suppose to be in my "Sunday best". I wasn't sure what my Sunday best was as a family we hadn't been to church in several years so my Sunday best was my house slippers and my baggy sweater. I tried asking my mom why a priest was coming over but she wouldn't tell me.
When I came home for lunch Father O'Leary was already sitting on mother's best sofa, the one that had the soft blush flower design. I was never allowed to sit on it, it was only for special guest Father O'Leary must have been very special that he had been allowed to sit on it. Mother rushed me into the bathroom so I could wash off my face and straighten my hair. I didn't know why mother was making such a show for this priest but she was certainly trying to present us in our best light. I even noticed she had put Hamlet, our cat, outside. He hadn't left the fire escape and I could hear him yelping all the way down the block.
After a few minutes of silent eating, minutes that felt like each one lasted a life time. Mother asked me where my father was. I told her that on the motor bus to work he said he may not be able to come to lunch as his both had him under lock and key these last few days. Father O'Leary then cleared his throat and pulled out a ring from his pocket. I could tell with out a magnifying class that it wasn't really a ring just a gold band and a piece of glass.
"This was your mothers?" he said.
My breath and appetite were gone.
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Okay that was probably more than five minutes but they said to keep writing... that was fun.

Writing Spaces

Yesterday as I was writing about "What do you do?" I was thinking about my writing space. What I mean by that is where do I like to write. Minus this blog I don't usually find staring at a blank screen as inspiring so I usually have to write my stories in a notebook I carry around with me at all times. But that's not really what I mean either. I mean what spaces do you find creative rather it be sitting in a park, at a coffee shop or cozy corner or room that you like to use for your writing?

The reason I bring this up that I was intrigued where I wrote this blog...at work on my lunch or coffee break. My little cubicle with its grey wall that have tried to cover up with cards (I have gotten from my co-workers) pictures from magazines, and a page I tore out of my Mary Cassatt book to have some art around me. I am not ashamed to admit my walls of my cubicle look pretty crowed from the things I like to see to my papers I keep up that I have to remind me what needs to be done. But I find it odd I use this space to write my blog, or at least this part of it. My story is ALWAYS typed up at home. I like on Saturday mornings to pour myself a big cup of coffee sit down have WERS (a radio station that plays the best of Broadway from 10-2 on Saturday) playing in the background and write. I have my desk up against the wall in my apartment that has two windows so I can look out and see the world pass by. I also have two Degas Prints up on that all right over my desk. I find it a very nice spot to write. Sorry I do not have a picture of it, I am beginning to move and my place is a mess.

I have always found having a desk by a window very inspiring. When I was in high school I dreamt of the day when I was a real author I would have a room in my house with a big window that over looked the ocean of course then I was planning on living in Santa Barbra. Now I live in Boston but I still dream of having a desk by the window and a floor to ceiling bookshelf. I was actually inspired to put my desk by the window in my last furniture redesign after spending all summer looking at this woman who would sit at her computer in her bay window that looked down on Pickney Street on Beacon Hill, thinking that she was writing her novel. I know she was probably checking her email or her bank statement but I liked to think of her writing that novel. So my mom and I moved my desk to the wall with the window, and when I sit there and have a really creative moment I love being able to look out the window.
But as I get ready for my new move I think about my new room and where do I want to put my desk to allow me to write. I also think about in the future, when I a real author and I no longer call my self a wanna be author what do I want my writing room to look like, and feel like. Googling "writing spaces" I have come up with some inspirational ideas.

I liked this room because of all the books.

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I liked this room because of the window and it looks like it had some personal touches. I love to have photos of people around me, I love collecting post cards of places traveled to or every time I go to a museum I buy a post card(s) of art I liked to inspire me.This is probably what my desk will probably look like with my cat who loves to get my attention by sitting on my work.

I was thinking that it was odd I was writing about creative space... and my readers might be a bit confused about what random tangent I was going on today I found another blogger who wrote about space, so I might be odd but I am not the only one out there. Thank you Lobby Lu