A Time of Reflection and Thanks

People often confuse Memorial Day with Veterans Day, or assume they have the same meaning. They don’t.

Veterans day was originally called Armistice Day, established in 1919 by President Wilson. It was designed to celebrate the end of “The Great War”, World War I and mark the beginning of peace, good will, and understanding among nations. It later became a legal holiday (1938).

In 1954, after World War II (reportedly the biggest mobilization of service people) , and the Korean War the 83rd Congress amended the Act of 1938, changing Armistice Day to Veterans Day, with the intent to honor veterans of all wars.

Memorial Day is older. It began in 1868 when Maj. Gen. John A. Logan (of the Grand Army of the Republic) declared that Decoration Day would honor those fallen in the Civil War by decorating their graves with flowers. After WW I, it was broadened to include all those who died in American wars. In 1971, Congress declared it a national holiday.

Veteran’s Day honors all who served and sacrificed. Memorial Day honors those who made the ultimate sacrifice.

For many of us, Memorial Day marks the beginning of the summer season. We celebrate this beginning with picnics and barbecues and trips to the pool or beach. But during our fun, we cannot forget to honor those who died for our freedom and safety. As the saying goes, without them, there would likely be no us.

*Information retrieved from va.gov

LGBTQ E-BOOK GIVEAWAY: MULTI-GENRE!

WOOHOO! Another LGBTQ e-book/short-story giveaway, another opportunity to explore new authors! Can’t hurt to check it out, right? Right! (Just click the picture!)

Banner for LGBTQ e-book giveaway.

Oh! I’m looking to add to my street team. You know, a group of avid readers who would enjoy helping me get the word out about my upcoming release (August). You’d be the first to read, plus the only folks to receive exclusive swag. Sign up here!

LGBTQ Fantasy E-Book Fair!

I don’t know about you, but as an avid reader I’m always looking for new authors. Here’s an opportunity to check some out! Click the picture!

A giveaway for LGBTQ urban fantasy, science fiction, and fantasy books and short stories.

It Was Always Love

This is a slightly modified version of a post I wrote five years ago as I processed Prince’s sudden death. I’ve updated the last paragraphs, as time has given me more clarity. Reposting is a part of how I honor him today.

---

I'm a writer. There has always been something cathartic in telling a story. So in the midst of incredible sadness I am sharing my story with you.

A poster hanging in my bedroom.

My partner says that she went to the movies with a friend one day to see whatever show happened to be playing and ended up seeing Purple Rain, a movie that changed her forever. From that moment on she was obsessed--still is--and thanks Prince for much of the joy she's had in her life.

My path was not as direct. He had to touch my life three times before I paid attention.

1979

Thank you for a funky time, call me  up...

On my way to high school driving the first of two cars given to me by my father, the song I Wanna Be Your Lover came on. The music was okay, but the lyrics made my head spin. Chock full of double entendres (I wanna be the only one to make you come...running), I couldn't get it out of my head for days. But trying to balance my perfectionist compulsion with wanting to fit in with my peers had turned high school into a three year long hurricane for me. I had a hard enough time holding on to my shit--I couldn't add one more thing to my burden.

1984

Somebody please tell me what the hell is wrong

The second time I became aware of Prince was when Purple Rain came out. I was newly married and in an unfamiliar place with no friends. I don't have memory of going to or being in the theater (my memory often fails me when it comes to very emotional moments), but I remember  buying a beta max copy of the movie as soon as it came out. I coveted that short, fat rectangular box (I still have it), but for reasons I can't explain, I never watched it. Not once.

The third time, as they say, was the charm.

1987

In my darkest hour, you can be my bliss

Given an opportunity I couldn’t refuse, I took a job two hours away from my home and my husband. My mom’s home was closer, and she graciously let me stay with her. I had a great time. I loved my job, had some cool adventures with my mom (like driving 45 minutes to buy a pizza that boasted cheese UNDER the sauce, not over it), and spent time with my sister and brother and their families. Moreover, every other weekend I honeymooned with my husband. Life moved along pretty smoothly.

Except at night. I started having nightmares. At first they came infrequently, and I barely remembered them. As time went on they grew more frequent and more horrifying. Eventually I had bad dreams every night. There seemed to be two themes--black roses and elevators. Black rose dreams woke me up crying. Elevator dreams were worse.

I know now that I was reliving sexual abuse I'd experienced as a child. I was in the same room, largely unchanged--the purple walls I'd begged for, music and my academic awards (evidence of my hypervigilent perfection), and the bed. The bed.

Any time I was alone with my thoughts they drifted to dying. What death would feel like. All the years of my nephews and nieces lives that I'd miss. Pieces of my nightmares started to come to me during the day. I searched continually for distractions, trying to save myself. One day I saw an ad in the newspaper about an upcoming Prince concert. Suddenly, I remembered his movie and that song, and how they made me feel. I needed to feel that again, to go to his show, but I was afraid to go alone. My sister told me her husband was a big fan (her, not so much) and that he'd probably go with me if I had my heart set. He did.

October 1988

Do you want him, or do you want me?

We had tickets in the Nosebleed Section because we'd gotten them so late, but it didn't matter. The entire arena was filled by the presence of the little, ethereally beautiful man on the stage. I was captivated--couldn't take my eyes off him. But the music transformed me. He sang of love and sensuality and peace and God and sex. His voice resonated, reverberated throughout my body. I sometimes make a joke, saying if he'd asked me that night for all of my worldly possessions I would have given them to him.

Except it was the truth. The next day I went to every record store I could find and bought every tape Prince had ever released. I drove around for hours listening to his music. He didn't become "the soundtrack of my life". He became my reason to keep living.

1991

I want to jump for joy and thank him I'm not alone

I'd gotten a bigger and better job and moved back upstate with my husband. While stalking a record store (my new hobby), I came across Prince's official fan magazine, Controversy. Not only was it heaven on the page with big, color, never before seen pictures of him, but it had a pen pal section. Suddenly, I wasn't alone. I'd found my tribe--men and women who experienced Prince the way I did.  Many of them are still my good friends. People who understand me and love me anyway. Miraculously, I also connected with the person who would become my partner. I like to say Prince gave her to me.

Present day

Can't begin to understand how I feel about you, everything I want to do I can't do without you

A wall in my living room.

I've seen Prince in concert over one hundred times. I have every song he's released, and sometimes multiple versions thereof. My partner and I celebrate his milestones--birthday, album releases, awards, performances. Our annual Super Bowl parties celebrate his 2007 award-winning appearance. Many of these dates are commemorated with concerts that hold special meaning. There is not one room in our home in which he's not evident, either in fact or by influence.

My life is filled with good friends who I connect with over songs and youtube clips, through marriages and divorce, through children and grandchildren, over the mountains that life put in front of our best efforts and under the bridges that we fell from. When we're happy, we listen to his music and watch his movies. When we're sad, we do the same. Since his passing, we cling to each other and assure ourselves we'll get through this, and that we'll find joy again. To a point, we all have.

My friends and I asked questions of ourselves and each other. Where would we go from  here? Who would we be, if not Prince Fans? How would it feel to not look forward to his next album, the next concert, the next TV appearance?

Over the past 5 long years, some of those questions have been answered. We’re still fans, and still mourning our loss of a man who remains so important to us. His estate has begun to release his music, some that we already have and some new to even us. We’re also seeing previously unseen concert performances. Bittersweet gifts. But nothing compares to having him here.

His music is an indelible part of us. It's in our very core, infused in our cells. His songs remain in the background of everything. Our experiences with him and because of him live on.

• Getting his autograph in NYC and almost fainting because I thought he'd levitated, a tiny angel dressed in white.

• Nearly being "rear-ended" by him in MPLS because he was driving too fast and we were going too slow.

• Hearing gunshot and fearing for our lives as we left Glam Slam, his former nightclub.

• Flying to England for concerts and spending a sleepless night at the only after show I ever attended.

• Going to his store in MPLS so many times the manager told his staff "Play whatever videos they want to see".

• Grieving with him, from a distance, when he lost his child.

• Meeting pen pals. (I LOVE AND AM GRATEFUL FOR EACH OF YOU.)

• Standing outside at 2am in line for a show, with some of the craziest and friendliest people I've ever met.

• Feeling time stand still when he died, and then watching the world turn purple.

Even as I think about it now, my eyes well with tears. City monuments, bridges, buildings were illuminated in purple lights. The Weather Channel App showed an illustrated picture of the sky with purple raindrops. All in tribute to him. I’d never seen anything like it before or since.

Never say the words "They're gone"

The world is off of its axis. I miss him every day. My heart aches, and in quiet moments it's hard to breathe. I'm still can’t watch the tributes. I can't even listen to more than a couple of his songs or watch a whole video at one time without sinking into overwhelming sadness.
I wish I could tell him a few things:

Dearest Prince,

I am ever grateful for the beautiful ways you've touched my life and the many ways you saved me. Thank you for the people that are in my Purple Tribe because of you, supporting each other to get through this thing called life.

I hope you find, in this part of your journey, the peace that eluded you in your time on earth. I am ever blessed to have shared the planet with you.  

I know to some this is insanity, but it is my Truth:

It was always love.

---

Who Put the Social in Social Media?

I’m not a big fan of Facebook. I know, I know—Blasphemy. But I am certain when future generations look back on this period in history, they will determine that Facebook is the antithesis of “social” and was the beginning of the end of society as we know it. Here’s why:

• The privacy issues. Because of Facebook and the myriad social media platforms that have followed, we have grown accustomed to having less privacy than we have previously said we wanted. Go looking for that new mattress? Facebook will show you ads. Do a search for a new baking dish? Your feed is not overflowing.

• The ability to congregate. Okay, maybe this part isn’t all bad, as I’ll discuss in a moment. But it used to be the case that if you had some lunatic, criminal idea, you pretty much mulled it over in your basement all by yourself. Maybe you tried to convince your equally disturbed brother-in-law to join you in your flight of fantasy. But now you can find an entire group/page/friend list of like-minded criminals.

• The illusion of anonymity. Not that you’re actually anonymous. But because you’re at home in your bunny slippers and the other people are somewhere else, it can feel like you are. Consequently people seem to think they can say ANY DAMN THING and it’s fine. Bullying, disrespect, cruelty are all okay because, you know, no one knows it’s you.

Everyday I tell myself I need to stay away. That it would be much better for my mental health if I did. But…It is only because of Facebook that I’ve reconnected with people I lost touch with. People I knew way back when—my next door neighbors from childhood found me, for goodness sake! Coworkers I’d lost touch with because I moved—many times—and life has a habit of taking sharp turns. It’s pretty cool that they’ve found me.

Consequently, I’m here on my website. You can find me on Instagram. I play around on Pinterest. And damn it, yes. I’m on Facebook.

I’ll see you there. https://www.facebook.com/trevannr

The Wrap Tour Revisited

I don’t think it is unusual for people to have several personal anniversaries. For me, April will always bring back memories of the Wrap Tour. In 2004, my partner and I were in the middle of writing an urban fantasy.  Ok, most of our books have musicians in them but this one actually featured a rock star on tour.

Our of the blue, our favorite musician announced a tour, the first in several years. The problem, since it was not a planned tour, new dates kept being added while the tour was in progress which means the musician did a lot of crisscrossing the country.  We had a deadline.  What were we going to do?  Keep writing and leave our concert destiny to fate? Nope.

I am known in some circles as the Queen of Ticketmaster.  If I set my mind on getting good tickets, I stalk Ticketmaster until I get them. But tickets to each of these shows was a surprise.  We would have no idea where our seats would be until we picked up the tickets right before the show. I’m sure you can see the problem here. How far were we willing to go for unknown seats?

The tour started in the Midwest in March.  Our first show was in Pennsylvania in April.  From there were drove to Columbia, South Carolina.  Then, because of late booking, we backtracked to Knoxville Tennessee.  Then crossed to Raleigh NC.  Next Stop was Jacksonville, Fl, the up to Birmingham, Alabama, and then Atlanta, Georgia.  We were exhausted and briefly were sick in Florida, so we took a short break and rejoined the tour for 2 shows in DC, then up to Hartford, Connecticut, New Jersey, and New York. We did a total of 12 shows in in 11 states in a period of 3 weeks. We lived on 2:00AM IHOP omelets and BLT or chicken salad wraps from Arby’s while on the road. 

We noted some interesting coincidences.  Every time I wore t-shirt and jeans, we had front row seats.  If I dressed a little less casually, we would be a little further back.  For most of the shows we were in the first 5 rows.  There really isn’t anything like the thrill and the intimacy that is created when you are literally at the feet of your idol, watching him do his thing.

But it isn’t always as wonderful as it sounds.  There is an implied social contract with the band when you’re up front.  You have the responsibility to REALLY show that you’re enjoying the performance which usually means standing up, cheering uncontrollably, and singing along.  We had 3 shows that were on the first balcony  That is a whole different experience.  You can see the whole stage, not just the front.  We learned that we missed a lot of cool interactions by being in the front row.  The best thing is being able to sit down if you want to.

To make matters worse, we are both short and feared that people from seats further back would crowd around the stage and we wouldn’t be able to see.  But we began to recognize and be recognized by the artist’s security so that was never problem. On several occasions people blocking our view were moved back to their seats.

I still have that “front row guarantee” T-shirt and many amazing memories that will always remind me of one of the best times of my life.  We also have an extra memento.  Our writing club awarded us a “trophy” for best use of procrastination under the guise of research.

It's Hard to Not Worry

A friend of mine, who also happens to be one of the smartest people I know, is very worried about the increases in COVID cases in this country. He and I spent the entire year worried, but managed to make ourselves feel better once the rates in Connecticut began to decline and jumped for joy when the vaccine was rolled out in earnest. But things have started to reverse and he’s worried. So am I.

First, we noticed the cases in our state have started to climb. Earlier in March, we were at a low infection rate of 2.7% . Two days ago we were at 4.88%—the highest rate since early January. Second, cases around the country are on the rise, with a couple of hotbed states like New Jersey, New York, and Michigan. As states continue to roll back all restrictions, we’ll see more with that unfortunate distinction. Around the world, the data is sending the same message: The pandemic is not over.

Then we noticed that many people we know are resuming life as it was in The Before Times. They’re eating indoors at restaurants, going on vacations, and taking off their masks. Even people who previously were as cautious as we were are acting like a dose of vaccine is a magic potion.

Then my friend had an epiphany: If the people who, like us, effectively put themselves out of the path of transmission are now putting themselves back IN, there may very well be more people in the chain of transmission than there were pre-vaccine. Add to that dire thought the increased transmissibility, we are in a real life Petri dish.

What pushed me over the edge and back into worry, however, was the recent statement of the current head of the CDC: “I’m going to lose the script, and I’m going to reflect on the recurring feeling I have of impending doom.” You have to admit, even if you don’t completely buy the science (which you should because, well, science), that’s an incredibly scary statement from the head of the Center for Disease Control.

It. Is. Not. Over. #wearyourmask #washyourhands #stayhome The sooner we all resume taking this advice, the sooner we actually can get back to normal.

Four Ways Television Sets You Up for Disappointment

Iwill admit that I watch way too much TV and too many movies. We all know that movies and TV shows are not based on reality. They set up the average person for disappointment–and I’m not even talking about the concept that everyone on most shows is young, beautiful, and wealthy.

These are the Top 4 Ways TV programs have set us up:

Burning candles on black background.

1. The speed of travel. A body can be found on the west coast and a D.C. FBI team is on site before the body is even photographed. On a smaller scale, the main character always gets a taxi quickly. Has that been YOUR experience? Not mine. I remember a fated evening in NYC where not one single cab would stop for me.

   Sometimes we have no idea at all how the characters get around. Do shadow hunters always travel with a warlock to portal them, or do they take the subway in their invisible form?

2. Housing is never an issue. Every character has a bedroom that is ridiculously large. Everyone who lives in a city has a penthouse apartment with glass walls and no curtains. Instead, they have beautiful, panoramic views of the city. Many have balconies large enough to accommodate plants, enough furniture for a full room, and maybe a hot tub. Admittedly, the real issue for me is the window walls. One show has wall of windows with a view of a brick wall that appears to be about three feet from the house. Why???

3. Alcoholism is rarely an issue. This despite the fact that, in some shows, all the characters ever drink is alcohol. They rarely show any consequences of all this drinking. Occasionally someone has a cup of coffee or tea but you have to watch closely for those moments to make sure whiskey hasn’t been added.

4. Unrealistic use of candles. What’s most disappointing to me, however, is that my bedroom is not lit with hundreds of pillar candles that seem to burn day and night. How do they afford all those candles? How do they get them lit so quickly? How are they lit when NO ONE was home? Why do none ever sputter and die?

I suppose I could make do with fewer candles if my room was filled with the strands of twinkle lights you see in the bedrooms of TV teenagers. Or I could get one of those glass-walled apartment and let the city lights illuminate my boudoir. 

It’s something to consider.

A New Release by Vicki Batman!

Oh, look! A new release by the delightful Vicki Batman!

Temporarily out of Luck, a romantic comedy mystery

Tagline:  Hattie Cooks scrambles to exonerate her sister when all fingers point to Tracey as the murderer of her ex-husband.

Story blurb: Great job. What man? And murder. Newly employed at Wedding Wonderland, Hattie Cooks is learning the industry from a woman she greatly admires. When her former brother-in-law is found dead in his luxury SUV, all fingers point to Hattie’s sister, who is planning her own I Dos.

Detective Allan Wellborn is caught between a rock and a hard place—Hattie’s family and investigating the murder of a well-connected Sommerville resident, the same loser who was once married to Hattie’s sister. Determining who’s the bad guy—or gal—isn’t going to be easy and sure to piss off someone.

Can Hattie beat the clock to find out who murdered Tracey’s ex before she is charged with the crime and her wedding is ruined?

Excerpt:

Sometimes, I felt like a small white mouse housed in a cage with lots of small white mice, whose playground activities involved eating, sleeping, and continually revolving on the exercise wheel. Just like one rodent friend—who I named Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky, having a field day back-flipping from the top of the spinning wheel—something happened. Unexpectedly, I found myself airborne.

Not hurt, a sense of disappointment overcame me, plus a bit of confusion, and a whole lot of colorful adjectives too numerous to list. I, mostly known as Hattie Cooks, shook off the pine shavings and joined the rat race. Sometimes, life sucked.

But wallowing? Not a good solution.

Being positive? A better one.

In most cases, a pitstop was a good idea, and I found comfort in my chocolate stockpile. And in most cases, I found empty shelves, for I had little dough to supply my habit due to the loss of my adored job as an assistant buyer at Sommerville’s top-class department store, Tucker’s, and the subsequent low-paying temporary ones I reluctantly took in the interim. Due to the expenses of rent, food, utilities, budgeting became my new compadré. However, for my recent birthday, Mom suggested friends and family provide me with treats. They were generous—gifting lots and lots of my favorite M&Ms in vast colors and flavors.

Mom’s idea totally rocked as the best birthday gift ever.

From outside my door, I heard Allan Wellborn smack the doorframe.

“You know how to find me.”

I roused from my ruminations and banged my forehead against the wall.  

Author: Vicki Batman

Funny, sweet, and quirky, Vicki Batman’s stories are full of her hallmark humor, romance, and will delight all readers. She has sold many award-winning and bestselling romantic comedy works to magazines and most recently, three humorous romantic mysteries. An avid Jazzerciser. Handbag lover. Mahjong player. Yoga practitioner. Movie fan. Book devourer. Cat fancier. Best Mom ever. And adores Handsome Hubby.

Find Vicki Batman at:

Website: https://vickibatman.blogspot.com/p/more-about-me.html/

Blog: https://www.vickibatman.blogspot.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Vicki-Batman-sassy-writer-of-sexy-and-funny-fiction-133506590074451/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/VickiBatman/  

Pinterest: https://pinterest.com/vickibatman/  

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/author/vickibatman/  

Email: vlmbatman@hotmail.com/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4814608.Vicki_Batman/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/vickilbatman/

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/vicki-batman     

Find Temporarily out of Luck at:

E-book: https://www.amazon.com/Temporarily-Luck-Hattie-Cooks-Mystery-ebook/dp/B08T7YSSRJ/

Print: https://www.amazon.com/Temporarily-Luck-Hattie-Cooks-Mystery/dp/1509233377/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=temporarily+out+of+luck&qid=1612803759&s=books&sr=1-1/

Reviews:

-I loved it! It was a very entertaining and a fast read that kept me engaged throughout. The pacing was perfect. My only complaint is now I'm craving M&Ms and enchiladas. And donuts. And wedding cake. 

-I laughed. I wondered. Then I laughed some more. Every page of Temporarily Out of Luck delivers a satisfying story and heartfelt humor. Don’t miss this great read!

-Between a new job at a bridal shop, serving as her sister Tracey’s maid of honor, and learning to tango with hot cop Allan Wellborn, Hattie Cooks has her hands full. But when Tracey becomes the primary suspect in her ex-husband’s murder, Hattie knows it’s up to her to ensure her sister a happily ever after. Temporarily Out of Luck is the perfect pairing of romantic romp and cozy mystery.    

-Hattie Cooks has landed a great new job at Wedding Wonderland. With her sister Tracey poised to exchange nuptials, the timing couldn’t be better. And with sexy detective Allan Wellborn serving as the best man and Hattie as the maid of honor, the wedding promises to be an exciting event. Unfortunately, fate throws a monkey wrench in the happy couple’s plans when Tracey’s first husband, a cheater named Jonson Leggett the third, is found dead in the Super Saver parking lot. Can Hattie help clear her sister’s name in time for the big day? Readers will enjoy finding out in Temporarily Out of Luck.

-Temporarily Out of Luck is a light, funny mix of romance and suspense, set against the backdrop of a pending wedding. Say “I do!” to this delightful story!

-With charming characters, an intriguing murder plot, and lots of laughs, Vicki Batman’s latest book, Temporarily Out of Luck, is a total delight.

-A dead ex, a hot cop, and small-town secrets. Readers will enjoy spending time in Sommerville as Hattie Cooks attempts to prove her sister Tracey’s innocence—and learn the tango—before Tracey’s wedding day.  

-A romantic romp coupled with a cozy mystery, Temporarily Out of Luck will warm your heart, exercise your brain, and tickle your funny bone. Vicki Batman delivers pure entertainment--once again!

-Hattie Cooks might get lucky with investigator Allan Wellborn--if only his darn phone would stop getting in the way! Temporarily Out of Luck is a seamless blend of light murder mystery and romantic comedy that is sure to please readers of both genres.

Soul Soothing Beach Memories

Just this week, I’ve realized it’s been about three years since I’ve been to the beach. The first two summers I was dealing with excruciating sciatica. Walking was difficult. Driving was impossible. This past summer, of course, was Pandemic Summer 2020. I didn’t go anywhere except for the odd doctor appointment and I had to be forced to leave the house then.

In the last few days, my back has started aching. You know, that band at your lower back? The muscle spasms take my breath away. I’m trying to baby it so that it calms down. I do not want to have another summer without the ocean.

Water rejuvenates me. The sound and rhythm of the waves soothe me. It’s always been this way. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m a water sign. Or maybe its because my mom loved the beach and we’d spend sunrise to sunset at Sunken Meadow Beach on Long Island. If I close my eyes, I can see it as if it was yesterday: Mom in a beach chair with her book. Her beach hat AND a tilting umbrella. The blanket loaded with coolers, KFC, and abandoned flip-flops.

My sister was always the first in the water. My brother was the last because he hated taking off his t-shirt. But once we were all in, it was hard for Mom to get us to come out. The water captivated us.

It still captivates me.

Fingers crossed I don’t have another sciatica flair-up. I’ve got to get to the ocean by summertime.

365 Days

My love belongs to my beloved 365 days a year, 1440 minutes of every day. I work hard each of these days to show my love.

An unexpected cup of coffee.

Flowers for no reason.

A drive to nowhere.

A text from the next room.

And a myriad other moments.

Today is just a day where I shout it to the world. Happy Valentine’s Day.

Writing Through the Pain

I’ve just come through a very difficult period of writer’s block. I’ve not experienced anything like it before.

I was at a pivotal point in the story where my main character experiences something very painful. The kind of emotional agony that brings up every other anguish you’ve experienced in your life. Soul-wrenching. But something was in my way.

My writing process begins with me seeing the scene. I know this sounds weird, but my story comes to me like clips from a movie. No, I’m not saying that the story writes itself or that my characters are in charge or anything like that. But my imagination unfolds the story before my eyes, so to speak.

For this part of the story, the scene was blank, as if the reel of film had run out.

I tried to force the issue. Sitting at my computer for hours and hours, staring at the screen. Reading the thousands of words already written and then reading them again. I realized that I had to step away for a while, so I put it away for a few days.

Instead of coming straight back to it, I decided to plot it out. I opened up a rarely used program and I loaded it with pictures. Then I asked a few questions and wrote down the answers. What was the hero’s goal? What needed to happen and was it compatible with his goal? What was the conflict? The outcomes of the conflict and the reactions to it?

As I considered these questions, the story began to unfold. Suddenly, there they were, the plot point and the pain. As painful as this scene was to be for my character, I needed to find my connection to his pain. I cried as I wrote it. I cry every time I re-read it.

I excited to see what happens next.