I can't undo the unintentional damage I caused and that bothers me. There is a part of me that just wants to find the perfect words to make it all better to explain myself and rebuild that bridge. And that is the part that has been waking me up in the middle of the night and draining my wine supply. It is also responsible for me putting a pen in the sink to be washed.
writing reflections
Finishing
The best writing advice that I have taken from heart to practice is to finish what I start. Currently, that means finishing a second edition of my first book, Blood Child (with the help of a fabulous editor), working on the rewrites of another project and finishing many of the books I started to read … Continue reading Finishing
Three Lessons for the New Year
The End of 2020 The days and hours of 2020 are coming to an end. But, before you get on your knees to welcome 2021, remember it isn't over. The horrors of this year aren't going to evaporate at the stroke of midnight. The virus will still be with us even while the vaccine gives … Continue reading Three Lessons for the New Year
Pennies on the Ground
Coming into work, I saw a penny on the ground. It was tails up, bad luck. But then the words of one of my godfather's rung in my ears, "Who am I tell the universe that I don't need money?" Or abundance. So I picked it up That penny sat on my desk at home … Continue reading Pennies on the Ground
New Year, New Plan.
Actions are votes for the type of person that you want to be. I heard this on a newscast on New Year's Day. The brief interview was about how to make your resolutions a reality. Small actions leading to better habits was the gist of the conversation. If you want to lose weight don't think … Continue reading New Year, New Plan.
The Lost Writer
For the last four weeks, I have been the type of sick that people dread. The kind that makes your whole life slow to a crawl. There is nothing you can do but rest, drink lots and lots of fluids and hope that people don't get tired of you asking for help.
Sunday Afternoon Sketch
The Counter The sound of something crashing, even something small, echoed in the main atrium of the department store. Mindy had only walked away from the makeover for a moment to help a young woman. In that hair of a second, the customer had taken it upon herself to add some eye-shadow to the areas … Continue reading Sunday Afternoon Sketch
Saturday Morning Sketch
He was trying to absorb some of the hope offer by the sun as it reached through the trees into the darkness of the urban park. His head bend to all the way to clasped hands, eyes closed, pleading for something to change. Pleading for a miracle. Just had he had every other morning since … Continue reading Saturday Morning Sketch
Lucinda Rose 