M. Jean Pike's Blog, page 39
June 18, 2018
A Few Treasures From My Garden
I must confess, my wall gets a little untidy by about mid-June. Between the So. Ohio heat, my new WIP, and my summer job at the bakery, the weeds grow up faster than I have time to pull them.
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Unlike my writing, my approach to gardening is rather haphazard — no rhyme or reason, I just plant what I like. At the top of the list are cone flowers…
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And day lilies!
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These black-eyed Susans seem to have planted themselves!
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Here is a pic of my bottle garden, which I had to move to the middle of the yard, since my chocolate mint took over the corner where they used to live.
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That’s all for today. Hope your day is filled with happy thoughts, sunshine, and lots of flowers!
June 17, 2018
The Heart of a Father
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This is one of my favorite photos ever, my nephew Joe with his firstborn son, Josiah. To me, it is the very face of fatherhood. Wishing a Happy Father’s Day to all!
Until you have a son of your own… you will never know the joy, the love beyond feeling that resonates in the heart of a father as he looks upon his son.
Kent Nerburn
June 13, 2018
Wordless Wednesday– Bubbles
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June 12, 2018
Cats… or How to Ditch a Date
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Pal swallowed the last of his beer. “So do you want to go dancing or anything?”
No, she did not want to go dancing with Pal Wainright. As far as she was concerned, this date was over.
“Actually Pal, I have a little bit of a headache. Would you mind just taking me home?”
“Sure thing. It’s all the smoke in here from the grills. If it was me, I’d install better vent fans. I’ll go and pay the bill and then we can take off.” He opened his wallet and leafed through it. “You mind leaving the tip?”
She’d thought saying she had a headache would make him drop her off and go away, but when they reached her house, he followed her onto the porch.
“You mind if I use your bathroom?”
She showed him where it was and returned to the living room. Maybe if she waited by the door he’d get the hint. After a few moments he returned and sat down on her couch, clearly ready for more conversation. By then her head really did ache. She thought of Lilly’s suggestion of telling him to get out of town, but she couldn’t bring herself to be that rude.
“Would you like a cup of coffee?” she asked.
“Sure.”
She made the coffee, carried it to the living room, and handed it to him. He was flipping through her meager collection of CDs. “Matchbox Twenty, huh?”
“Do you like them?”
“Not so much.” He shrugged. “Candy used to love them. I took her to see Rob Thomas once. He was okay. If it was me, I’d have played a little longer though and given people their money’s worth.”
“Of course you would have,” she murmured.
She heard a soft mewling behind the guest room door and jumped up. “Oh gosh, I’d better check on my boys.”
His coffee cup stopped halfway to his lips. “Boys?”
She opened the door and Nutmeg bolted out with Pepper close on his heels.
“You’ve got cats?” Pal squealed.
Before she could grab them, they scrambled up his pant legs and hopped onto his shoulders. He swatted at them, spilling his coffee in his lap. “I didn’t know you had cats!”
His look of absolute horror made her want to giggle and she bit the inside of her cheek. “Just these two, for now. But I’m going to be starting up a cat rescue soon, so I’ll have at least five or six more.” It was only an idea she toyed with, nothing she actually intended to do, and she was amazed at how smoothly the words slid from her lips.
“A-Choo! I’m allergic to cats.”
“Oh, dear.”
Pepper climbed back up his leg.
“A-Choo!” He slapped his coffee cup down on the end table, grabbed the kitten and all but threw it at her. “I’ve got to go.”
He jumped to his feet and bolted out the door without another word. She stared after him, openmouthed, as the door slammed behind him. The kittens also stared after him, as if they, too, were unsure what had just happened.
“You naughty boys,” she said softly. She scooped them up in her arms and hugged them. “Oh, you dear, sweet, naughty little boys!”
The giggles broke free then, and for the second time in seven months, she laughed until she cried.
Excerpt from Frankie’s Heart
Coming Next Month
From Black Lyon Publishing!
June 11, 2018
A Hundred Years from Now
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It shouldn’t come as a surprise, if you’ve followed my blog for any amount of time at all, that I love old photographs. I love to drink in all the details and try to invent stories to go along with what I see. Or think I see.
A hundred years from now, if this picture should still be around, I wonder… what will people look at it and see?
They might look at the woman and the young man and note a similarity in the shapes of their eyes, and conclude that the young man is her son.
They might invent a story in which the young man, from New York, finds himself in Ohio on business for a few days, and that he calls his mother and invites her to lunch.
They might look at the woman’s smile, and see in it how happy she is, and how she will treasure the memory of this perfect day, this unexpected blessing, for a long, long time to come. They might guess that she looks at this young man, her boy, and is reminded of a little child who brought her jars of crickets and dandelion bouquets. Of years of cheering in the stands at football games and wrestling matches, her heart swelling with pride — even when he didn’t win. They might guess at how amazed she is that this boy, her boy, in what seems the blink of an eye, is now an amazing young man.
They might imagine that he means the world to her.
And they will be right.
June 6, 2018
Wordless Wednesday — Stalker
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Wordless Wednesday
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June 5, 2018
A Short Excerpt
Today I thought it might be fun to pair one of my old photos with a short excerpt from my soon to be released novel, Frankie’s Heart. So here goes…
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She watched the tent people going about their lives with great sadness; people sleeping under trees, or hanging laundry from low branches, children playing in the tall weeds along the tracks, each one of them involved in their own storm. But what could she do to help them? She was only one person.
God, what should I do?
The answer came softly, quietly. It told her the common sense solution to people’s basic needs was food, clothing and shelter. She couldn’t give them all shelter, but she could certainly provide food. She returned to her car and checked her wallet. She had fifty-three dollars. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.
She drove to a nearby pizzeria and ordered two sheet pizzas, then went across the street to a mini mart and bought a case of bottled water and two bright red kick balls.
Forty minutes later she returned to the park. Heart pounding, she carried the pizzas to a picnic table near the tents and sat down. She opened a pizza box, took out a slice, and ate it slowly. It stuck in her throat like concrete. She could feel eyes staring at her from under trees and from inside tents.
Let me not offend them, God. Let me see them the way you do…
The first person to approach her was a little boy. He inched closer to the table, watching her eat with his large, solemn eyes.
“Hi!” she said.
He didn’t answer, only inched closer.
“My name’s Frankie. What’s yours?”
“I like pizza.”
“You do?”
He nodded.
“Well I have a lot of it here. Why don’t you go and ask your mother if you can have a slice?”
He turned and tore across the park, disappearing into a tent. Moments later a woman marched toward her with the boy and two other children in tow.
“Jade said you was gonna give him some pizza,” she said, almost accusingly.
“That’s right.”
“Be all right if my other kids had some, too?”
“Help yourself.”
The woman sat. She was not much more than a girl, really, maybe nineteen or twenty years old. Her pleasure was almost palpable as she sank her teeth into a slice of pepperoni pizza.
Noticing Frankie watching her, she asked, “Why are you doing this?”
Frankie smiled and shrugged. “Why not?”
Excerpt from Frankie’s Heart
Coming July, 2018
From Black Lyon Publishing
June 3, 2018
Shopping for Characters
I love going to the grocery store.
Oh, not after I’ve worked all day, gone to the bank, put gas in the car, and packing the pantry is one more thing on my to-do list. I like to go in my spare time.
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I enjoy wandering the aisles, checking out the produce section with all of its interesting colors and textures. The baked goods aisle, with a dozen kinds of dinner rolls, pastries and pies. Some stores have an entire aisle of coffees; Dunkin’ Donuts, McCafe, and many I’ve never even heard of. You can get regular cans of coffee, K-cups, or flavored beans to take home and grind yourself.
Grocery stores are wonderful places where I can usually find everything I need. Including characters.
I’m always in need of non-essential “people” for my stories; those walk-ons that every story needs to fill space and add interest.
I have found the tired out, stressed out mama who drags her cart through the store, a toddler in the front who is on mama’s last nerve with begging for things, and the overindulgent grandma who caves and indulges her grandchild’s every whim.
Would you like a popsicle? Let’s get two, one for you and one for grandma…
The starting out couple happily stocking up for their first home, consulting each other over every item, and the couple with matching heart tattoos who can’t seem to add a single item to their cart without a fight.
Fine, get the big box, then. We just won’t get milk this week…
Depending on what my story calls for, I try to see these people through my character’s eyes.
I am the young woman, six years married, who longs for a child.
I am the grandmother in Arkansas, who rarely sees her grandchildren in Vermont.
I am the thirty-something single woman who cannot fathom how you get from matching heart tattoos to squabbling over the price of ground beef.
Grocery stores are wonderful places where you can usually find just what you need. More than fresh strawberries, cake mixes and coffee, they are a rich source of everyday people doing life. Places where you can stock up on countless varieties of scenarios and dialogue, free for the taking. All you have to do is show up.
