T-shirts and Tape

Photo via Morguefile.com

T-shirts and Tape

by PR Henriksen

For most it would be sad when your life comes down to a junk drawer, poured into a box, that you should've thrown out months ago. A few memories, and a lot of things that could be misconstrued or possibly used against you in a court of law. For Marlena it was good times and business-success-as-usual.

A Fine Summer Day

MorgueFile

A Fine Summer Day

By PR Henriksen

I sat drinking me single malt whisky taking wee breaks to exercise me bagpipes whilst the rather short, pointy-eared lad played golf in the glorious, green glen.

He was wee. And by wee, I mean tiny. Standing straight up, the wee lad came almost up to the base of the ears of a hare, who also stood by to watch him play. The lad was trying to play a round of golf with a rock and a fossilized thistle. He claimed to be some sort of Highland monarch, but when he missed a shot and his wee rock landed with a mighty raucous splash in the loch, he let loose a string of Gaelic insults the likes of which caused the local forest to quake.

I took another swig, contemplating on if he was one of the Sleagh Maith or their opposite. Upon experiencing his extensive range of perfectly ancient Gaelic invectives, I couldn't exactly call him good.

"And Monarchs have castles, clans, and properly displayed tartans Lad!"

He stared at me long enough for me to register the sparkling mischief in his wee bonnie blue eyes, then he turned abruptly and lifted his wee kilt to the heavens. Which exposed me to his eye-stunning white buttocks, and his natural born club and balls.

I slapped my knee and laughed until my sides were ready to split. He turned back to face me, laughing hisself into a tizzy as well and took a bow. Then looking quite serious, he said, "Play it again Dougal!", and I put me drinking glass down, picked up me pipes, and started again.

Truly a more magnificent summer day could not've happened by accident, alcohol, nor amiable gnome.

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I hope you're having a great Friday. I have been trying to stay away from social media and work on my Southwest Killer-Thriller which I will begin editing in a few weeks. But I couldn't pass up Eight Ladies "Scottish Chronicles" for Friday writing sprints. My mind apparently needed a shot and a Highland break. Feel free to try your hand at this weeks words and have some fun! :D

For being Scottish day, the darn random generator should have known that Scotch is from Scotland and Whisky/bourbon is from the USA. Sorry for the confusion. :D

Today's Random Words:

Whisky                 loch                       glen                       bagpipe

Castle                   golf                        highlands            green   

Monarch              rock                       fossil                     hare

Gaelic                   tartan                    clan                        forest

Super Puppy Love

Picture from Morgue File

Since when did my expensive, custom, titanium-vibranium arrows become puppy playthings? Oh, yeah, since I found out my future felon has this weird thing for robotic furniture, can swat smart cars the length of a football field with just a slight paw tap, and if he gets too much bacon he has fevered-hallucinations that he can fly... just like Underdog. He never bluffs, he just jumps. Who knows, one day he might be right and I'll need to get him a flying permit.

Oh, and did I mention he can chomp through a cell tower with a casual bite. He loves to bring the poles home. I try to put them back up, but he keeps bringing them home. We've been labeled as the number one menace to communications and technological advancement in the greater southwest. Considering Silicon Valley is kind of in our extended front yard, that might be saying something. I've taken to recycling the un-restorable poles. I built him a cell-tower-pole log cabin out back. I keep getting bills for the poles, so I figure I might as well use them.

Being titanium-vibranium, my arrows don't seem much affected by his chewing, they just ignore it. I tugged the arrow away from him. He let me. Anyone else trying to play tug with him would lose and arm, not because he would bite them, simply because normal people's arms would just pop off like a Barbie doll's.

I nocked the slobbery arrow, "Loki, fetch!" I aimed high and long, fired, and off he went. He had a lust for fetch that most dogs could never match. Trying to wear him out sure could wear me out. I sincerely hoped he would bring the arrow back, rather than another cell tower pole. If we got too many more poles, his house would soon be bigger than mine.

Our relationship isn't perfect, but it is both operatic and poetic. The superhero and the super-dog, saving and menacing the world. Sometimes on the same day. As he bounded back, probably from somewhere near Vegas, arrow in mouth. I thought about how much I loved him and what a lucky girl I was. I can't imagine ever adopting a more perfect pup.


Today's random words were:

Love    hallucination     puppy    bacon

Operatic  lust   furniture   weird

Relationship   robotic   arrow    felon

Fever   future   bluff      plaything

If you would like to see more Random Word Writings (or try your own), visit Eight Ladies Writing

Wind Tossed

It's been a while, but it is Flash Fiction Friday.

I've been working on a full novel that I plan to have out by the end of the year:

Archeologist meets lady sheriff, roughly, over the missing sheriff's truck and a query about the dead body they found in his basement. He wants to find and stop whoever is looting and destroying Utah archaeological sites, and she wants to find the missing sheriff without too many entanglements. Needless to say that isn't quite working out as planned- for either of them.  It is a southwest, murder-mystery, killer-thriller, and if all goes well, the first in a series. I already have some great ideas for the next 4-5 stories in the series.  Lee McEuen is the archaeologist - he's half Goshute Indian and proud of it. She is Jackie Kincaid - the only non-son in a family that have been Texas Rangers for generations. The desert can kill you, hide you, or even sustain you....your choice.

Oh, also.... it's finally motorcycle season here in Michigan. I've been gathering the sun's vitamin D rays on my face and arms for the last week in and out of work. It sure makes the world feel and smell nicer. Except for that strange day last week that I kept smelling spiced peach jam all along the way to work, except for one stop that smelled like doughnuts.  It inspired me to grab a dozen this morning and squeeze them gently into my side-bag for me and my work mates. Kind of a "have a great long weekend" kind of morning.

Now, here is Flash Fiction Friday... Thanks to the ladies over at Eight Ladies Writing, because I decided to participate in their Friday Writing Sprints.... want to try your luck and spin some random words? Drop by over there and add some. It can be a lot of fun. It definitely loosens the up the old brain cells - waky waky little brain! :D  Here's my entry for the day:

Wind Tossed

by PR Henriksen

Picture from Morgue File

"Brother, am I gonna regret this!"

Truly epic adventures and the most stupid of hell-bound ideas both start with a statement like that. So, my odds were 50/50. Could be worse... 

It was. 

After my chute shot unexpectedly sideways in a near hurricane wind blast,  I'd gotten myself tangled up in a tree.  I was hanging upside down, like some sort of floofy, artist's dream of a cloudy, forest chandelier.  I also mentally reset my odds of accomplishing this mission at about 75/25 - against.  

The Wizard Saves the New Year

A little set up.... Over at Eight Ladies Writing they've been having Friday word sprints using a randomly generated list of words. The character below, Jenna Hansen (SFPD officer and FBI couter-terrorism team member) has been evolving on Fridays for the last couple of months. "The Wizard" is a new addtion and this story gives more background on both of them. You are currently at a disadvantage, because I have not posted any of the previous Jenna Hansen story here yet, because it isn't finished. 

This week was the annual Eight Ladies Holiday story challenge. This is my story for this year.

The Wizard Saves the New Year

(A Jenna Hansen Tale)

Had it been six years already?  

It's almost impossible, as a city cop, to get even one day off over a holiday, let alone a week.  Spending it in New York? Well, that conjured up images of Lady Liberty, romantic carriage rides around Central Park, exclusive shopping, unique food shops, and possibly some snow with a bag of toasty chestnuts in your hand.

What I hadn't received that year were broadway tickets, love poetry inviting me to the top of the Empire State building for a rendezvous, or even tickets to see the new giraffe enclosure at the zoo. Any of those options would have made for a fine holiday break. Instead, I had received an invite that read more as a "summons to appear" for specialized counter-terrorism training in New York over Christmas break.  So, I was spending the coveted week between Christmas and New Year learning how much more dangerous my city and my job were going to be by order of my chief and the President.

Bonus, NaNoWriMo, Week 3 Pep-Talk

Are you NaNo-ing?  I wasn't going to this year. I had participated in Camp NaNo this summer, but then the week before I changed my mind. (I'm sure that never happens to you either. :D )

Anyway, I've been participating with NaNo in one form or another since 2008.  In all that time I have always participated with the Isle of Skye in Scotland, which added a few more small groups there and became a more conglomerated and infamous Scotland Elsewhere.  And you are thinking - isn't Detroit, Michigan a bit far away from Isle of Skye, Scotland?  Why yes it is! (If you don't believe me you can Google it.)  The Detroit SE group is thousands of people, all over, and there are good people and MLs here - I just never really felt deeply a part of it (more so over the last year when some of the group formed a FaceBook page).  I hope NaNo will consider breaking it into smaller chunks soon.

The Isle of Skye was small when I started there - it was a friendly, homey place, due in huge part to the ML - MarieRex, or Anastasia.  She seemed a bit older than the average NaNo-er but never felt ancient. She was extremely hands on, and full in with NaNo. She never seemed to want to publish a book, she just seemed to enjoy the annual challenge and being able to help others along the way. She would sometimes mention knitting and a shelf full of NaNo hard work.  My feelings and enjoyment of NaNo have been shaped greatly by Anastasia. We lost her last year, just before NaNo and apparently us fine, lost, bunch of lambs had no leader this year, so everyone just pitched in, in remembrance of our beloved MarieRex.  So, here is my pitch-in, the Week 3 Pep Talk.  If you are NaNo-ing this year, feel free to chip in. If you are looking for a Week 3 Pep Talk - Scotland Elsewhere has you covered.

Welcome to week three of NaNoWriMo.

Fall is Fleeing & Winter is Fast Approaching (or is it Encroaching?)

Me, Penny, and the Girls - Pepper, Tawny, & Daisy

I love fall!  But it does herald the rapid descent into the deep frost and anti-motorcycle zone known not-even-remotely-affectionately as WINTER.... Burrrrrr.

 A little over a week ago, I thought I'd had my last ride for the season.  I mean, how often do you get a perfect 70F week in NOVEMBER, in Michigan.  Let me tell you, not often. It's rare to get such a perfect week just into October (and October this year had us in the 30s for a couple of weeks).

It's Good to Have a Plan!

I read a great article over at Eight Ladies Writing - blog: Planning a Novel by Michille. I've been working on this very subject for the last few months - like crazy, I want to get a book out - NOW! And her article sparked me enough to respond and I found I'd put down a lot of stuff and Heck - it should be on my blog too.  So here it is.

I'm a re-forming pantser. I wasn't going to do NaNo this year (NaNoWriMo - aka National Novel Writing Month), but have decided I want to "finish the darn book" also. I think the reason I haven't finished is because I get a huge chunk of the way in and then end up with mysterious plot holes that seem more like black holes because they suck the story in - never to be finished (because I couldn't figure out the darn problems).  I think I always felt like plotting took the creativity and flow out of it. What I am discovering is that it's a matter of perception.  A lot of the creativity and pantsing go into the outline (outlines vary by person as to the amount of anal retentive detail and obnoxiousness) AND you get a chance to figure out your story problems before you spend months and tens of thousands of words finding out you've created a hot mess.  I grabbed a story I felt I could work and sell and looked at it.  I love the characters, their feel, the story idea - even more now, but let me tell you how heartbreaking it is to pull it all apart and find out that it will be a very different story.  I am basically writing a new story.  Although it is a bit sad, I find the more I plan, the more exciting it is too!

When Did She Become a Classic?

My Valkyrie - at an overlook of lake Michigan.

As much as I love my Valk, she is a 2000 model, making her 15 years old.  I know what that is in dog years, but my bike?  She seemed ageless.  Yes, I swapped out batteries a few time, had to swap out the starter for a new one, changed out the breaks, upgraded to new spark plugs a few times, and exchanged air filters and oil filters way more than once.  There have been tire changes, chromey bits added, We've balanced the carbs, scrubbed off gunk, and polished her to a fine shine.  She's mine, but lately she's been showing her age (haven't we all?).

How Dare You!

Gil Elvgren Pin-Up calendar April 2015 picture.

It's Flash Fiction Friday!

How dare you!

by PR Henriksen

How dare you splash me, Sir.  You are no gentleman.

It’s bad enough that Mother Nature decided rain her wrath down upon me, but you sir…. There is no excuse.  I had carefully placed the silk upon my legs, tugging the seams ever so straight against my curves in the back.  The dress?  Pressed to impress and in white so as to contrast beautifully with the upcoming spring flowers. My hair was curled, my make up sublime, and now you've covered me with both mud and slime.  You are no gentleman, most unkind sir.  In the future I shall refer to you as cur.

Dear Cur, you are as the name suggests good for nothing, but to be cut and culled from the herd, as one who hinders, rather than helps.  Even wet, I glisten like the delicate, bright flowers you also tried to cover.  Where your worthless hide will be forgotten, my soaked, silk thigh will still catch the right guy’s eye, and he’ll treat me as a real gentleman should.

May your way be ever clear and sunny, so that you too can someday shine… now fare-thee-well, while nature and I await the rainbow that is sure to follow in your uncaring wake.

If You're Going to Procrastinate...

Ok, so, life became all-absorbing again.  I have missed a few Writing Wednesdays.  Today is your day.  I have been so busy with intense course study (non writing related), that I haven't had much time to write anything that hasn't directly been for class.  As a matter of fact... It's like my creativity put headphones on and decided to take a nap about it.  Oh, I've had a few rogue ideas or "fixes" pop into my head (which for the most part I was actually smart enough to write down), but as far as sitting down and getting any bulk of words on paper- NOPE!

All has not been lost. I find that even when I am not creatively writing I can often find things to stoke the fires and keep me feeling warm and cozy about it.  This week I give you - The Journeyman Writer.  Now, I've told you about Storywonk (love it!) - it's on the sidebar over there >>>

Podcasts are not new to Storywonk, they have been the soul in there, almost since the beginning.  And I love most of them (even when they get long), but my new favorite is Alastair's The Journeyman Writer - It's short (5-10 min) and guess what, he is like the voice of reasonable writing reason in your head, with a slightly lovely Scottish lilt (although living in the USA for the last few years has mellowed it considerably).  Alastair gives little moments of thoughtful writerly goodness and then - sends you off to your own journey.  You magically feel more creative, more inspired, and part of a greater writing community (because yes, there are people out there just like you).  Please, stop by and give it a listen (you might find some other pod-castery goodness while you're there too - fair warning - don't come back and hurt me for your own twisty journey to writinghood.

If you're going to procrastinate, do it with style, do it with purpose, take a worthwhile side trip, and by all means have FUN!  (Also, don't blame me if you're a closet storywonk - I only gave you the story-geek place to hang out... I never made you one. :D )

Creative Midori Challenge for March

Today’s challenge is "15 minutes of writing". Very appropriate, considering it’s Writing Wednesday. Do you ever accept creative challenges of any kind? And I’m going to suggest – outside of writing challenges? If not, you should consider trying it. Just to flex all of your creative muscles. We don’t want any or those creative juices to dry up and we certainly don’t want anything “creative” to atrophy.