Tag: writing

Apples and Oranges Are Both Fruit

Hey stranger! How are ya?

I have disappeared off the face of the internet for quite some time, focused on my family and getting through the darkness of the pandemic, if I’m being honest. It’s been busy. And difficult.

But I haven’t ever stopped writing.

I’m currently chugging away–ever so slowly, but chugging nonetheless– on the rewrite of Super Us.

YES! I’m still working on it. And YES it will–at some point– be published. I owe it to the characters that have a story to tell and who have yet to make an appearance–HELLO Destiny, Faye’s spunky daughter. I’m still in love with the story and can’t wait to get it finished so that I can share it with you.

As a little side note, I’ve recently written something that I’d like to share today, called “Apples and Oranges Are Both Fruit,”  a very serious piece about comparing the two. I’m planning on including this in the second volume of “Twenty Five Hundred” my collection of 500 word pieces.

I hope very much that you enjoy this today. And I hope that you — whoever you are, where ever you are, if you are here reading this– I hope are doing well.

<3 Jessica

Apples and Oranges Are Both Fruit

 

You know that expression, “It’s like apples and oranges?” Meaning they’re great in their own ways, but you can’t compare the two because they are way too different.

You can’t compare apples to oranges because one is fruit and the other is… also fruit.

That’s my problem with the expression. Why wouldn’t you compare apples and oranges? They’re actually very similar. They’re types of food. Both from fruit trees. Each are round. And are sweet. A delicious fruit either way.

So why is the expression about comparing apples and oranges? Why not opposite things? Like apples and… sardines? “It’s like apples and sardines” That’s better. They are nothing alike but both are good, in their own right.

Although, that’s a matter of opinion, isn’t it? I happen to like sardines even though I know most do not. The majority would surely say apples are much better than sardines and that there is no comparison between the two. And I might agree, depending on my mood. But maybe I want a little protein. Then I would say sardines are better than apples because apples don’t have any protein. Neither do oranges for that matter. Oranges do have vitamin C though, and apples don’t. But apples do supply other vitamins. Let’s just say there are health benefits to all of these options.

I’ve lost track of my point. Where was I? Apples and oranges and sardines. All types of food and each healthy and also relative to one’s taste. But they’re not exactly opposites, are they?

You’d need to compare things that weren’t types of food. Like apples and… rocks? “It’s like apples and rocks.” Does that work? Well, isn’t the point that they are different but also good– or valuable– in their own way? What’s good about a rock? Not much. Depending on the rock, of course. What kind of rock are we talking about here? Gold? Diamond? “It’s like apples and diamonds.” Well, anyone would choose the diamond–even if you were hungry because the diamond could be sold for many, many apples or sardines or whatever you wanted to eat. No one could say that apples and diamonds are equal but different and that’s the key to fixing the expression.

So what has exactly the same value as an apple but is also the opposite of an apple? An apple represents sustenance. What else is vital to survival? Breathing. Okay. What about, “It’s like apples and air.” Ooh, I like that. Both are essential. Eating and breathing. Apples and air.

Good. Now that I’ve fixed the expression I need to go find something to eat. All this talking about food has worked me up an appetite. Now I need to decide what I should eat for lunch. I’ve got a tin of sardines and some fruit. Wouldn’t you know? Apples and oranges.

Hmmm. Apples or oranges. Apples or oranges? Do I want tangy or crunchy? How do I choose? Looks like I need to make myself a fruit salad.

“Changes” a 500 word story

A short story I wrote a couple of years ago called “Changes” was published this month in the Colorado magazine, “Prairie Times.”

I thought it would be fun to share it here as well.

Changes

Flying down the path, sneakers skimming over the pavement as my favorite running playlist blasted in my ears. I was high on adrenaline. Riding the rush of endorphins. It was always the best part of my day. I’d run that trail a thousand times. Wasn’t paying attention. Wasn’t watching where my feet landed as I took the free-feeling for granted. That’s when I tripped.

One second, I was speeding along the trail, wind rushing past me, and the next I was skidding to a halt. Slamming into the pavement, knee first. It burned immediately and I cried out, yanking my headphones from my ears and rolling to a stop on the grass on the side of the trail. The ground was wet from the recent rain. Cold seeped through the seat of my shorts. And my ankle—oh my ankle hurt bad. It must have twisted on my way down. Maybe it was sprained. Or broken.

Blood was beading up fast from the gash on my knee. I covered it with my hand, pressing, as I looked wildly around me. I was in the middle of nowhere. Hadn’t seen anyone on the way up. Was miles from my car. The sun was low in the sky and sinking fast. I’d skipped lunch and my post-run power bar was in my car along with my water bottle, which I’d left at the last minute.

No food. No water. And no one knew I was even here. I didn’t even tell my cat—though a lot of good that would have done anyway. Silly. Cats can’t call 911. Even clever ones like my Chloe. It could be hours before anyone found me. Days even.

All I could do was sit there. Think about my life. All the crappy parts of it. The way I always joked about that awkward girl at the office, what’s-her-name. The way I was rude to the girls that did my nails the other day.

But I could be a better person. Volunteer or something. Go to church.

Eat fewer doughnuts.

I could do that. I would, if I were only to be rescued. All I needed right then was a tall, dark, and handsome someone to come running up the trail. Someone to swoop me into his arms and carry me down the hill to safety. If only my hero would show up. Well, I would change my life. I would.

And then—footsteps! The thud of shoes hitting pavement. Coming my way! I fixed my pony tail and scooted, turning, to see a group of girls running up the path.

“You okay?” the tall one asked, judge-y eyes looking me up and down.

I stood. “Fine,” I answered to her back. The herd of them had already bounced past.

I looked down at my unbroken ankle that didn’t even hurt anymore. At my knee that was no longer bleeding. I plodded down the hill to my car.

Oh well, looked like a doughnuts-for-dinner kind of night.

“Changes” is one of 20 short stories in my book Twenty-Five Hundred (available here!)

“High Tea” accepted for Colorado Magazine, “Prairie Times”

For the last several years, I’ve been a member of a writing group that meets once a month, The Longmont Writers Club. I’m currently the secretary, which is a position I’ve been enjoying.  (I’ve also been the vice president, but I like the secretary position more. Reminiscent to my days as an admin, I guess.)

Anyway, the club has been in existence since the early 1930’s. The premise of the club is that the members are given a topic to write on ahead of time. On the day of the meeting, we bring our pieces to read to the club for feedback. The rule is that the writing pieces cannot exceed 500 words.

As you may know, I LOVE the exercise of writing from prompts. When I heard about the club, I knew it was going to be a good fit for me. I have taken the 500 word limit as a personal challenge, and always bring a piece that is exactly 500 words. I love this because it forces you to really hone in on which words are going to tell the story best.

When I set out to write a 500 word piece, I start with an overabundance of words. Then I trim  until I have a more reasonable amount. And then I pick and choose. Replace and rephrase. Until I have exactly 500 words in the end. To me, this feels like really digging into the writing piece. Like I’m sifting and molding as I sort through the words. And the process is highly satisfying.

“High Tea” a short story

The first piece I took to the club was titled, “High Tea”. Fun fact, I was told about the writing club over the phone and misheard the prompt topic. The prompt was actually “The Key” but I heard “The Tea” .

…eh, I guess that’s not a very interesting fact.

Anyway, “High Tea” is a sweet little piece about seeing yourself through the eyes of your child and, ultimately, self acceptance.

I recently sent the story to the Byers, Colorado based magazine, “Prairie Times,”  and it was immediately accepted for the August 2019 issue.  They loved it and encouraged me to submit other stories.  Exciting!

 Read the story online here: http://www.prairietimes.com/Aug2019.pdf

They also sent me a copy of the August issue.

“High Tea” is on page 9

 

New Publication in the Works

I’ve been working on a compilation of short stories from some of these  prompt pieces, from various writing exercises, and from my other works. The book will be entitled “2500” and will include 20 short pieces, all 500 words each.  Look for this soon! I’ve finished putting the manuscript together and will be sending it off to my editor to get all polished up and ready for publication. I’m pretty excited to share these stories. Some may be familiar, such as Faye’s unfortunate coffee shop scene from the beginning of “Super Me”, or short stories posted on this site. Others will be brand new.

Oh, and hey,

Just for fun, this post contains…

EXACTLY 500 words

Boom.

Writer’s Corner: Writing a First Draft

As I mentioned in my previous post, the first draft of Run is going well so far.

But,  you may be wondering… WHY is it taking me so long to get the first draft of the book done? I got the idea back in July of last year, right?

Well, aside from  working around a toddler, taking some time off for a family trip and to pack up and move into a new house–you know, life stuff–the other reason it’s taking so long comes down to the first draft process for this project.

Let’s talk about the different ways you can write a first draft.

The NaNoWriMo Approach to First Drafts-AKA Quick and Dirty

NaNoWriMo stands for National Novel Writing Month. The basic premise is that you write 50,000 words in 30 days. At the end of the month you have a short, super rough, first draft.  It’s a process that values word quantity over quality because you don’t stop to edit your words at all. You just keep writing words upon words upping your tally to reach your word-count goal.

I love this style of first draft writing because it takes over-thinking off the table. You don’t take the time to ponder and choose the best words possible or if there is a better way to phrase something. You just write. It’s also, generally, and as you would expect, pretty terrible writing. I mean, bits and pieces may be great. Maybe you come up with  some amazing lines or find yourself with some intriguing  characters or interesting scenes, but without stopping to edit your words at all, it’s going to be a very rough first draft.

Generally, you also don’t share your work with anyone–actually, that’s one of the reasons you’re able to freely write such a crappy draft. There’s nothing to lose! It’s liberating and, more often than not, you’re going to surprise yourself. Regardless, at the end of the first draft, you’re going to have something to work with. If you really enjoy editing, this process may be the way to go. Once you have your rough, rough first draft, it’s all editing from there on out. You’ll need to spend a lot of time going through the rubble to dig out what the story is really about. That’s when you start revising and sifting and sorting until you have a much more clear second draft–another stepping stone closer to what your story will look like when it’s finally complete.

The Perfectionist Approach to First Drafts–AKA The Never-Ending Process

The exact opposite way to write your first draft is to write your very best draft possible. This means being extra deliberate with your words, choosing the very best possible words and phrasing along the way. You make sure your first line, first paragraph, first chapter and so forth are exactly the way they need to be before moving forward.

In my experience, this way of writing a first draft is excruciating. It’s a very critical way to write. You’re constantly analyzing your work. Your inner editor/inner critic is wide out in the open, working alongside you and that’s not an easy way to write.  When you’re trying to choose the best words, trying to get any words down is going to be difficult. And, I hate to break it to you, but there is no perfect way to write a book.

No, wait, I take that back. This isn’t bad news, it’s fabulous news. And worth repeating.

There is no perfect way to write a book

No matter how long you spend trying to get your words to to come out in the exact right way, you’re always going to find a better version if you look at it again. If you get your first chapter juuuuuuust right, odds are that once you have more written, you’re going to want to go back and change that first chapter. Usually, you won’t know how it will all unfold until you get the whole manuscript written, anyway. That means that words will have to change. You will need to rewrite. To edit. To revise and rework. You will need more than one draft.

So, getting that first draft “perfect” as you go….sure, it’s do-able, but it’s going to be challenge. With your inner-critic/editor on your shoulder, you’re not going to feel free to make mistakes. So you’re going to have a harder time getting words on the page and moving forward will be a struggle.

The good thing about writing this way is that if/when the draft is complete. It’s going to be pretty polished and a lot farther along than just a rough first draft. You’re going to be several steps up from digging in the rubble, with a strong, solid piece to move forward with–but it probably took a long time to get there.

The Middle of the Road Approach to First Drafts–AKA My Current Method

Or, you can do a combination of the two approaches. Meaning that you edit as you go, but you don’t get too hung up on using the right words.

This is what I’m doing with my current project, Run. I’m writing it chapter by chapter. Taking a little time on each chapter until I’m happy with it. I’m editing as I go, but am keeping in mind that this is just the first draft. That things will change and that’s okay. I’m not too attached to my word choice or worrying about it being perfect. Once I’m fairly satisfied , I move forward. I’m spending about a week on each chapter, never going back to edit previous chapters.  When I  come across things that need changing, I make a note to look at it later. In the end, I want a first draft to work with, but something a little more solid than a very rough first draft that I would need serious digging through.

I also did a lot of planning before starting this project. I have a lot of notes to work with, and an outline. Some scenes are all worked out. But I’m also going with the flow if something comes up. I’m not attached to the “plan” too much. I’ve found this to be pretty freeing and am having fun piecing the story together this way and learning my characters and their story more and more as I write out the draft.

So, yes, it’s taking me a little while to work out this first draft, but (I hope!) it will be well worth the wait.

(There may or may-not be a zombie stuck in a farmhouse in this story. We’ll just have to wait and see!)

A Note about the Planner/Panster approach to NaNoWriMo:

I realize that not everyone “pants it” during NaNoWriMo (pantser: someone who writes “by the seat of their pants”). I’m sure many go into it as a “planner”,  with detailed outlines and notes upon notes to work from. Maybe even having scenes planned out, chapter by chapter. But, in the end, you’re still going to be writing new words because that’s what NaNo’s all about–you’re winging it, to some degree and don’t stop to edit along the way. So, it’s still probably going to be a pretty rough first draft.

Interested in more on NaNoWriMo? You can visit their page here.

 

Writers: What’s your first draft process–how much (if any) editing do you do along the way?

 

The Zombies Called

Sometimes a story comes right at you.

A week before publishing Super Me, I had a brand new story come at me. Full. Force. I was in the car–on my way to take my youngest to her one-year check-up and that’s when the story first hit me. I furiously typed notes into my phone at stop lights and every chance I had. By the time we got back home, I had a rough, but solid, idea a new story–including the title, main characters, setting, first lines, basic plot line, and even a possible ending.

The next day, we took off for Breckenridge, CO for a few days on a little family vacation. I spent the whole time writing down flashes of scenes as they came to me and making notes and plans for this new story. It seemed like the craziest time to start a new project. Super Me would be released in just days! I had the sequel, Super Us close-ish to completion and the third in the series in progress (also some novella ideas I’ve been playing around with).

But, for whatever reason, my mind was spinning with zombies. So, I put aside A Super Series, temporarily, and focused on the project at hand.

 

A New Young Adult Novel…  with Zombies

It has been such a fun adventure! Writing zombie-fighting action scenes wasn’t something I thought I would be tackling and is so different than what I’ve written before. But I am loving getting to know these know these characters and figuring out how the story will unfold and piece together.

I’m also trying something new and writing this draft from two different character’s points of view–from the perspective of a girl… and a guy too. Will it work out?  Who knows! But I’m willing to give it a try because writing the story this way and switching between the two viewpoints, seems to be what fits best right now.

I’ve been swapping first draft chapters with my friend, former critique partner, and talented writer, Kathy Drazsnzak (check out her blog, it’s fantastic).  And of course, I’m also sending the chapters to my husband, Mike–he’s always up for reading whatever I come up with (even the random stories that pop up out of my prompt writing. I looooove writing from prompts!)

And now I’m getting close-ish to the end of the first draft of my newest novel…

Run

The description (so far) goes:

The virus has been released and few remain. The undead have taken over and those who are left must find a way to survive. Kaylie was weeks away from graduating high school when the virus ripped her future away. She is suddenly alone, afraid, and surrounded by monsters.  Hunter’s whole world crashed in a tragic accident long before the dead swarmed the Earth. Now, with nothing left to lose, he heads out into the unknown seeking revenge. Neither are prepared for what’s coming… in a world that wants them dead.

Sometimes a story comes at you and you just have to write it.

Sometimes a story comes at you and you just have to RUN with it.

500 Word Story: A Roll of the Dice

Please note: this story is a stand alone piece and has nothing to do with the young adult novel, Super Me, or A Super Series whatsoever. Just a little piece written from a writing prompt.

The prompt: Rolling the Dice. Sticking to my 500 word challenge, it is exactly 500 words.

 

-A Roll of the Dice-

It was a routine call…. nothing to be nervous about tonight. I cracked my knuckles looking, again, at the clock.

Five more minutes until midnight. Four.

How much longer would he make me wait? The dice had gone warm in my hands. I rolled them around, careful not to drop them. They clicked together in the otherwise silent house. I moved my shoulders, trying to loosen the grasp tension had on my neck. Two minutes until midnight. Maybe he wasn’t coming. No, he would.

The room was dark. Blinds closed. The room empty. I heard his steps before seeing his face. “You’re here,” he said, sounding almost surprised. Like he didn’t think I would show up. As if I had ever let him down.

“You’re late,” I answered.

“Made it before the bell.” He took this too lightly. If they knew how much he joked…

But he knew I’d never say anything. Anyway, we had a job to do and best get to it.

“Let’s just get this done,” I said, grabbing his gloved hand. Of course he would wear gloves. He was so dramatic. Probably had his cape on as well. I smiled to myself but made sure he didn’t see.

“Do you have the dice?” he asked me.

“What do you take me for, an amateur?” I snapped. Then took a breath. “Sorry, just a stressful week. Here.” I set one of the dice in his gloved palm. “Please don’t drop it.”

He raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Instead, set his free hand over his die and closed his eyes, leaning back slightly. Feeling the moment.

I rolled my shoulders again. Blew out a breath and copied his stance, cupping my own die in my hands. I’d never wear gloves. Loved the feel of the dice heating up too much.

The clock struck. Then again. Again. I counted in my head along with the chimes, like I knew Grenaldo was. Ten. Eleven.

Following the twelfth bell, he cleared his throat.

I felt the die glowing in my palm. Yearned to peek but didn’t dare.

“Zanafran,” he said. “Aralduous. Abibulous. Braticine.”

“Zinique Cayan,” I said with him. I couldn’t help it. Almost felt his glare, but I ignored it.

The tingle up and down my forearms told me the spell had worked.

I silently counted to three then opened my eyes to meet his.

Together, we tossed the dice into the air.

When I flipped the light switch, I saw he’d worn not only his cape, but also a mask. I grinned to myself.

He blew out a breath. Brushed his hands together. “Let’s go before we’re found.”

“Agreed,” I answered.

I always stole a glance before leaving. Mine read six. His, a four. “We’ve an interesting year to look forward to,” I mused aloud.

“Ciara, you know it’s bad luck to peek.”

I laughed as we exited, slipping into the shadows of the alley and on to the next location.

A Fortune Keepers’ work is never done.

 

500 Word Story: Trouble

Please note: this story is a stand alone piece and has nothing to do with the young adult novel, Super Me, or A Super Series whatsoever. Just a little piece written from a writing prompt. The prompt: A Police Encounter. Sticking to my 500 word challenge, is exactly 500 words. Here’s what I came up with:

 

-Trouble-

 

I was driving my Chevy on the county road, stuck behind a beater puttering along slow as can be. It was kicking up clouds of dust at me and I was grinding my teeth and gripping that wheel so tight my knuckles went white. My head was already in a spin and that was the last thing I needed.

 

The first time I saw her… when she walked in the bar the night before, I knew I was in trouble. Me and Alicia played some pool, had some fun, and she stayed over. Thought everything was fine ‘til morning when everything changed. It happened just like that, over nothing.

I guess I shouldn’t have laughed at her, but she looked so cute when she got angry. Guess I shouldn’t have told her that either ‘cause that’s when she grabbed her stuff. Said she was leaving. I’d tried to pull her back to talk about it, but she gave me that look that said she weren’t playing.

I thought the whole thing was funny ‘til it wasn’t. Left me scratching my head, watching her drive off down the road and out of my life. It was like a punch to the gut.

 

So, being stuck on that dang road behind that dang idiot that afternoon was the last thing I needed. Felt like he was doing it on purpose just to get a rise out of me, trying to make me later than I already was. That’s how I saw it anyhow. And that cigarette butt he threw out the window… when that landed on my windshield? That was the end of it, far as I was concerned. My left eye started twitching and all I was seeing was red.

Ten years I’ve been driving down that road. Never once before saw a cop on it, not ever. Not until the one time I lose my cool. I’m a decent guy. Not a single tick on my record. Turns out, that don’t matter too much when it comes right down to it.

I guess I shouldn’t have raced up next to that car. Guess I shouldn’t have rammed into it with the side of my truck. And I know I should have pulled over quicker when the trooper’s lights flashed at me.

But, I was too busy thinking about how hard dating was. That I might just give it all up ‘cause women are crazy. When we woke up that morning, I told her to get her makeup on to cover her morning face and to go make us some breakfast quick. Thought we could spend the day together.

 

I was ready to tell that officer off soon as he got to my car. I guess Alicia never did tell me what she did for a living and last thing I expected was for her to be the one to get out of that cop car.

Turns out, I was right from the beginning. ‘Cause I was in trouble, all right.

500 words of Random Story: “Choose Correctly”

Please note: this story is a stand alone piece and has nothing to do with the young adult novel, Super Me, or A Super Series whatsoever. Just a fun little piece written from a writing prompt. The prompt was: Glass Half Full or Glass Half Empty. Here’s what I came up with:

 

-Choose Correctly-

“I’m sorry,” I said, tears threatening. “I’m telling you. I don’t understand the question.”

“You don’t understand the question? How can you not understand the question?” The creature in front of me was large and round with slime-like drool dribbling down its green chin as it leaned in to squint down at me with frog-like eyes.

“Because they look the same to me!” I blurted. “They look exactly the same!” I was sick of these games. Sick of being stuck there while they tortured me with these ridiculous questions. I squirmed in the uncomfortable chair and grasped edge of the table in front of me even tighter.

“Impossible,” the smaller of the two croaked from his perch across the room. “She’s being difficult. Ask her again.”

I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. It was too bright in there. And stuffy like a sauna. How did they stand it?

“Which glass is it?” Frog Man asked me again. I sighed and watched as he, again, tapped first one glass of water on the table and then the other, painfully slowly, with his bulbous yellow-spotted pointer finger. “This one?” he asked. “Or this one?”

“What does it matter?” I groaned.

Frog Man ignored my question and grunted, his belly pushing against the table. The whole thing shifted and the contents of the glasses sloshed close to the lipped edge, but didn’t spill over. “One is half full….” he said, “and one is half empty.” He crossed his arms. “Answer correctly and then you may have a drink.”

I licked my chapped lips with my sandpaper tongue. Half full or half empty? I looked from one glass to the other. Which was which? I leaned forward to look at the waterline from eye-level, as if that would help me out. These guys were nuts. Why couldn’t they just let me go? I needed to get out of there.

I ventured a peek at the locked door, where the other one slouched on his tall stool, beady eyes never leaving me for a second. If I tried to run, they’d have me in an instant. I closed my eyes and shook my head. No, the only way out of this madness was to play their game. I had to guess.

But which was which? Both glasses were the same! The SAME!

I put my forehead down on the surprisingly cool table.

“She don’t know,” sang a voice I didn’t recognize. Someone I couldn’t see. “We’s wasting time, we is. She don’t know!”

“Ugh,” I said, pulling my head up. I lifted my finger to point at first one glass and then the other. Eenie, meanie, mine-ie… “That one is half full,” I said, my aim landing on one of the glasses. Fifty-fifty is pretty good odds right? “And, so that makes that one,” I continued, “half empty.”

I gave the creatures in the room a winning smile, raising my eyebrows.

“Congratulations,” drawled the large looming creature. “You get to live.”

© 2024 Jessica Dazzo

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