Penny4athought's blog

It has been awhile since I’ve posted my thoughts here, not for lack of thoughts just lack of time…or fleeing time I should say. Time is constant but not always amenable to my desires. The days are shorter in the midst of January and although my area of the world will not see snow and ice, it is cooler at times and begs at least a sweater if you venture out. For me, winter brings introspective thoughts with the darker, cooler months of the year...

Where have all my imaginative thoughts gone to? I ask myself this as I try to conjure up words...to bring my story back to life...to continue where I’ve left it off and take it through the middle, and on to the ending. It's not often I’m lost for words; in fact, I usually carry too many around and toss them out of my thinking bag a bit over zealously…then I have to comb through the mess of words I’ve tossed about and kick out the useless, over...

Too much time on my hands and not prime time I’m afraid. Recovering from Covid, which I’d managed to avoid getting for nearly two and half years and ticked that it found a chink in my defenses now for it is not a party, far from it. The first days of it, I didn’t know I had it; thought it was a virus, a cold or my general allergies acting up but fast forward a couple of days, and I’m thinking maybe a test might be in order. And then…”voila”...

Stepping away from writing for a day can sometimes extend into an unintended emptiness of words. For someone who has always had stories and thoughts swirling in her head, filling up any given downtime, it was happiness disrupting when my warm keyboard grew cold. After weeks of trying to write, I thought, “Okay that’s it, I‘ve run out of imagination, used it all up…I am no longer a storyteller.” That thought was disheartening because it felt...

Happy New Year! with a big emphasis on the ‘HAPPY…. For me, the first minutes of the New Year bring optimism and the endings of the previous year bring reflections. What was, what could have been, what should have been…if only… Those seconds before the final strike of midnight are burdened with a mixture of human emotions…sweeping out the clutter of dreams and wishes from our mental closets can be burdensome, or it can be treasure seeking.....

Halloween is here with ghosts and goblins and squeals of freight. Every child’s imagination soars as they put on a costume and become their imagined fantasy. It is fun and freeing and for the very young, the best holiday of the year. Scary movies or humorous, spine tingling, TV shows light up the screens of many homes. Cauldron bowls are filled to brimming with candy treats and homes are decorated to fright or delight depending on the decorator'...

Cloaked in happy sunshine the day should bring me a passel of good thoughts but, through the half turned blinds, the filtering rays do not reach me. Shuttered as I am and remotely working in front of a glaring, bright screen computer with movement restricted, I am sunshine deprived. I pop a tablet of Vitamin D, fake sunshine, and realize life as I had known it has ended. I spend too many dark days in a makeshift office working with no one but...

Write and they shall come….at least that’s what happened when I began writing Willow’s Tail . A day after I posted the first chapter, I kid you not, a tiny black and white cat sauntered into my front garden and made itself at home. The cat, I believe, lives next door or at least that's where I'd always seen it, lying on their porch or lawn but ever since that first day I posted, it decided to check out our shaded garden. It now spends leisurely...

May flowers are blooming and the animals are coming out from the forest to enjoy the warmth of the sun. There was a beautiful rabbit in my yard chewing on the grass this morning and made my morning coffee all the more pleasurable to see it there. I know my husband wants to put back the fencing that was knocked down by the large tree that fell from the forested area behind out backyard, but I don’t want to. Since that fence fell, I have seen a...

Writers create little worlds of wonder but where do these stories come from? I know it is different for each writer for we have our own rhythm and flow…require different stimuli…and know what effectively works for us may not work for everyone. For me, when I write, it is visual…the words flow from what I see, or I should say what I imagine. I walk through the scenes in my mind’s eye almost in a trance, imagining and typing the descriptive words...