Let's talk about the pleasures and puzzles of the smaller mystery--mystery novels and other fiction--and the bigger one--life.
That's a great effect, Andi. What is causing that interesting pattern of light/shadow?
I love old houses. Must be why I've written 3 stories about buying them and restoring them! I'd love to explore this one.I'm off in the morning - will check in as I can during the week. Hope everyone has a wonderful Sunday - I'm supposed to be at a county fair all day, and it's supposed to rain...my timing continues to be impeccable. Night, all!
I can feel Olga going "Hmmmm…" I just hope she doesn't start cracking the write! whip in the middle of church tomorrow morning.Lessee, a mystery writer is going to put a body in there, someone who went missing a decade or more ago. Or if the body has already been found, a crucial but (at the moment) obscure clue. Right? ;-)Looks a little spooky in there. Tell you what, why don't we have a picnic on the lawn? I made white choc. chip cookies this afternoon on a whim (and Mrs. Fetched loved them), so we have something to pass around. Beth, you got the tequila?
Beth, you wouldn't want to explore this house -- you'd go right through the rotten floor. Though as a further temptation, there's a much older log cabin that the newer one has been built around. [LINK]b2, the shadows are made a stick awning. You can see it in this pic [LINK]And here's one more detail -- my favorite -- for the story. [LINK]With all these pictures, think I could get a feature spread in House Beautiful? :)Morning all.
Morning, all.Lovely cabin! All full of history, soaked in the memories of passing time. I'd probably write a ghost story, not of death, per se, but of the echoes of someone's life.Yesterday's massage made me a convert. That said, my neck/shoulders were so tight, I still have knots. I'm definitely going to do this more regularly.Did some writing cleanup and new words, but net count was abysmal. I'm hoping to catch up today--especially since we expect SNOW. This after it being 60F on Thursday. Go figure.Andi, the other cabin photos rock! I'm totally going to use them as some sort of inspiration.Happy Sunday, all!
"This must be it." He leaned against the silver Audi TT Roadster next to his bride. He twisted the map in his hand a different direction and looked around for another road. Only ancient trees surrounded them. "This is it. All you inherited from your father?" she asked."I don't even remember seeing him since I was twelve. Abandoned Mom and I. Lived here as some sort of hermit according to Mom"Wait here while I look around.He felt the floorboards sag and pop as he eased around the edge of the room. He looked down through a rotted hole in the corner. The letter said he would find the treasure in the Northeastern corner of the cabin. Any furniture or belongings had been long stripped away. "Hurry up honey. Biff and Sandy will be waiting dinner for us back at the club."He carressed the wall and breathed in the scent of wood smoke from long gone fires. His father had helped his father build this place. Dad told him stories about living here as a kid and the things he did that no city kid could learn. He wondered why Dad never brought him here.He took the pen light on his keychain and shone the light down the hole. A glimmer of green caught his eye and he kneeled down to get a better look. It was a green metal box. The boards sagged and he laid down to ease up the stress. He stuck his arm in straining to catch the edge of the box with one finger. One more stretch and he flipped the box where he could grab it. "What the heck are you doing ruining your clothes like that?" He ignored her and set the box down on a stump. He went to the back of the car and pulled a screwdriver from the toolkit. They both leaned over the box as he pried the lid up. "I'm hoping it's worth all this trouble," she said. The lid popped up to reveal a worn velvet bag. She snatched it up."Doesn't feel like money or jewels to me."She dumped the contents on the ground.A pair of wire rim glasses, a gold band worn paper thin and a book. A journal really. He opened the leather cover. Andrea Jane Reynolds was written in what was now brown ink on the stained page. "This was my great grandmother." Restful Sunday to all.
Sad picture. I see a loving family that lost the home during the depression. (Think about the economy much, bono? lol) It's sad because the condition it's in now in no way reflects the love that grew there many years ago.Lisa, I love your story starter. When will the next segment be published. Glad the massage worked, Maria. Sounds wonderful. Happy traveling, Beth. MMM, cookies. Thanks, Farf. Great pix, Andif.Have a wonderful end to your weekend.
Bono--a mere diversion from the roiling panic I'm keeping at bay as I prepare what I will say to agents and editors and such during this workshop. Wipe the cookie crumbs off my face and back to the keyboard.
Very nice, Lisa. The bride seems to be a little, shall we say, status-conscious?It's snowing a little bit here, all melt-on-contact. They're getting accumulation down in Atlanta, so I hear, which is odd.
I like that story, Lisa. Really nicely done. (Will Andrea Jane be amalgam of your two Andreas? And reality would have made the wife even grumpier because you can't drive up to the cabin -- it can't even be seen from the current road and you have to walk back to it (which is the reason I suspect it's still standing instead of having been scavenged for stone and lumber).
Popping in to say I love the pictures recently, hi to everyone and thanks for the cookies.Thinking about a nice fire while I watch it snow.
Farf--money-grubbing stereotype yes.Andi--I thought you deserved to have the mysterious journal writer named after you.
Help! I've been sucked into Facebook and lost a full day!(waving!)
Jay grounded his spear and shook his head. "No. There's no reason for this.""It's only a dwelling," Kevin said. "Our grandfathers' grandfathers lived in such places. Town-people still live in them. Nothing to be afraid of.""I'm not afraid!" Jay insisted. "We're supposed to lay the game traps. That's all." The donkey carrying the few traps munched the grass at his feet, content to let the boys argue."But game shelters in these places. We'll have a look, lay the traps, and move on. If the place is a problem, we should know that so the march stays clear of it."Jay sighed and relieved the donkey of two more traps. "Fine. We'll have a look, drop the traps, and get on with this."The glass was long gone, as was anything else of value. "I'm surprised the place is still standing at all," Jay said. "Town-people should have taken the wood to build another house. Or for fuel."A low entrance on the other side promised cool shade from the early-summer sun. Kevin peered in. "We should put a trap in here. Animals would think it's safe, easy catch." Jay sighed and followed him inside.The space beyond the entry turned out to be some kind of enclosed porch, to Jay's relief. They set the trap, baiting it with a piece of overripe fruit, and laid it in an inviting corner. Kevin mounted the two steps to the door and looked in."Hey!" Jay hissed. "We've set the trap, let's drop the other one and go!""We need to look around. There may be something we can bring back." Kevin stepped in. Jay growled and followed him."Nothing here…" Jay whispered, then stopped. A ghost was among them.
I bow to your writer prowess o master Farf.FANTASTIC!!
Premature posting.Thanks, Lisa!This is set in Old Guy's world (one of the stories I posted prior to starting FAR Future). The ghosts of those who died in The Fall rest uneasy.
Nice, you guys. I can imagine that when Lisa's guy opens the green box, the two of them fall through into far's realm and become those two characters, again with one of them urging "go," and the other one cautioning, "no."
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