Tuesday Tidbit

Alle Yomin

Alle Yomin

“Sometimes, my boy, what you fear most is often found within. So, be careful of how quickly you judge. Be careful of how quickly you condemn. Most importantly, be careful of how quickly you kill.”

Desmon Rune looked at the elder, this level of respect keeping him from saying something rash. “I’m not afraid,” he said.

“Of course not; there’s nothing to fear. Surrounded by the words of so those who lived before you, learning by the actions of those around you…So many possible offerings to give those who will follow you.”

Desmon walked backwards towards the door, anxious to get to the Learning Hall.

(From The Atkinson Chronicles)

Making a Character


Rickman – via Alan Rickman Timeless

The black and white image of Alan Rickman dancing in the play inspired a cultural key to Atkinson’s identity, expression, connection, and rejuvenation of the soul.

It’s while Atkinson is away from the Township, away from the confines of structured stones and restricted rules, that his spirit is free. Songs and movements of youth, of a time of innocence, are found once bare feet touch the ground.

Creating a Pinterest Board called ‘Characters of My Imagination’ serves as an eclectic collection of odds and ends, gestures, and expressions that weave themselves into a story, the fabric of a character, in one way or another. A playlist of various YouTube videos also add a spark, a hidden tone, from time to time.

How about you, dear writer? What ingredients have you used to bring your characters to life?



Reading Corner by Tommia Wright

“Books won’t stay banned. They won’t burn. Ideas won’t go to jail.” ~Alfred Whitney Griswold

(Extended Exposure)

Rita Freemont held her taser, finger poised on the button. Scully’s silence only increased her heart rate as she pushed the door open, thankful it didn’t creak this time.

She scanned the living room first, frowning. Most break-ins resulted in things taken. Dozens of plastic bags piled upon and all around her coffee table was the last thing she expected. It was senseless to remain in her apartment if it meant more unusual finds.

Rita backed out of the apartment, deciding it was best to call the police from her neighbor’s place. Taser back in her purse, other hand poised to knock on the door, she could hear the familiar yipping of her little rescue mutt.

Jared Russell juggled another half-dozen bags with Scully in tow.

“Did your landlord kick you out,” she quipped, grabbing a couple of the bags from him then leading the way back inside, securing the door this time behind them.

Her fiance shook his head “The moronic mob wanted to clear the alternative high school of any and all ‘questionable, demonic texts’ from their library. Some of the kids and I threw as many as we could into my car, the principal’s car, and anyone else’s in the area.”

“Why didn’t they just lock the doors and call the police?” Rita sorted the books so none of the paperbacks were folded under the weight.

“What good would keys do when it’s the damn janitor’s leading the charge? Don’t worry, sheriff’s on his way, but still… Do you know how long it took just to get the library to the state it was in now? Idiots want a bonfire, they could drive out to the beach like everyone else and roast their own marshmallow brains.”

“Which section did you manage to abscond with?”

Jared’s lip curled up. “The Banned Books display collection, law, and science. Heaven forbid if the kids learn anything practical, right?”



All right, so this will be another ‘braided/mulit-layer bit of insanity: The Story-A-Day challenge with the May Month focus of “Get Caught Reading,” a book/reading quote, and a different character (or two or few) spotlight snippet. Let’s see how this goes:


“A home without books is a body without soul.” ~ Marcus Tullius Cicero

Amelia Livingston (Call Me, AL) waited patiently as the children wandered all about the library, returning to the blue ottoman only to put another book in the basket. She was grateful that the manager adjusted her check-out limit, given how quickly they devoured the stories.

When they’d return home, the books had their designated bookcase in the living room (large enough to combine the ones she had started with for each of their rooms, with room to spare). She hoped that maybe this blessed characteristic would remain with them as they grew up.  True, she was spoiled with her own library growing up, the daughter of two professors.

Amelia vowed to not let that part of her soul vanish.

Atkinson Fahti (Escorting in Twilight) marveled at the collection of books and scrolls throughout the entire dwelling. Even where there weren’t shelves, reading materials took over. Scrolls were saved for special occasions in his village.

Elle Yomin smiled. “In time, you’ll be able to read and understand all of these stories and so much more. In fact, I’m certain you’ll grow into being quite the storyteller yourself. Where do you want to begin?”


Let me know your thoughts, dear reader.



On the Beach postcard


“All love that has not friendship for its base, is like a mansion built upon the sand.” ~Ella Wheeler Wilcox

He held a pocket-watch in one hand and a postcard in the other. “A funny thing about Grandma – she loved the water but didn’t like to swim. No matter where they ended up at, she had a way of finding the most magnificent views involving water.” Ashley smiled as he handed Christina the postcard. “They could be in Montana or Nevada, and Grandma would always, always find the water.”

“Pity we couldn’t test that theory driving through Death Valley,” she quipped. “How did they meet?”

“At a boat show. Her parents had a business and they were one of the main vendors there. He happened to take a detour through town on a whim, or so he says. I learned over the years to take some of his stories with a grain of salt.

“There was one story he told me, when I was little, that he was a descendant of Captain Ahab. I believed him. Then, there was the time that he said he was a descendant of Jules Verne. And then there was that guy in Jaws, the one who ran his fingers down the chalkboard – that was based on one of Grandpa’s uncles.”

“Hook, line and sinker, huh,” Christina said, shaking her head.

“Every time. One thing he shared with me, while we were out fishing on the lake one summer, was – ‘whomever you decide to spend the rest of your life with had better have had a firm foundation of friendship first.’ Obviously, this means you know I’m spending the rest of my days as a bachelor and so-.”

“Oh, there’s still time, if you wanted to. However, given how well you’ve concealed that heart of yours, I don’t think even Houdini could break it out into the open.”

Ashley smiled. “About that fella, Grandpa once said…”

SaD – Word List


Today’s prompt involved using a list of words. What is wonderfully delightful about this challenge is that it isn’t a new one for me. Our NaNoWriMo region gets together for a ‘Writing on the Road’ and the List Game is part of the midmonth event every year. Our MLs create a monthly theme to motivate the group and the List Game centers on that theme in a number of ways.

All right, still have a few others to transcribe, but decided to at least get this one posted:

“Listed Reasons”


Gerald Grant had the distinct advantage of knowing how to pressure or bolster the weak, whether they volunteered a call for help or not. The scales currently tipped too heavily on the first side, so perhaps today would add a bit of weight to the latter.

From behind the sheer curtain, he watched his nephew take a slow turn toward the house, coming back from school. The classmate with him pointed at his leg repeatedly, then made a series of gestured, including ‘phone.’ The teen stole a glance at the time, then shook his head, eyes cast downward. The girl threw her hands in the air, waved goodbye; his nephew continued towards home, a noticeable limp in his stride. Jerry listed half a dozen reasons for what he needed to do next. Well, after this talk, of course.

There were too many barriers to crash, missing bridges to cross and flooding fires to brave through. To confirm imagined nightmares were a certain reality, or that dreams of hope had already burned in hell… It would be the last pain point he’d have to bring to the forefront first.

As the key turned in the lock, Jerry stood to where the door would hide him until it was too late; a practice he had down to perfection.

“Hello, Ashley,” Jerry said, locking the door, then clearing the teen’s hands of everything. “How’ve you been?”

Ashley’s eyes widened. “Uncle Gerald,” he asked, trembling as he backed towards the fireplace.

Up close, Jerry could see so much of Aunt Sharon in his face – blue eyes that should be looking up to the skies, not dancing with fear. Thin face that had a hint of yellow below one cheekbone contrasting the deep purple just above the other, a sliver of a cut on the lower lip, and dark circles under the eyes (concealed with remaining flakes of makeup).

He held up his hands, forcing Ashley to sit down in the armchair that afforded Jerry a clear view of the driveway.

“Look, I know you made that confession under duress. I suspected that it was only a matter of time before your folks would find out. I’m sorry.” Jerry gestured to Ashley’s face. “Want to tell me what happened?”

“Gym class,” the lanky boy whispered.

Jerry gave a quick, painful laugh. “Not always a reliable alibi to shimmy from the truth. Ten minutes until they get here. Want to try again?”

Softly, cautiously, Ashley gave the briefest of explanations and Jerry listened.


SaD – Aphorisms


All right, there’s some serious catching up to do in the converting of the handwriting-to-typing-for-post deal… There’s just something to be said for playing with new pens and journals, though!!

The prompt for today was to use an aphorism and there were different ways it could be done.


Hope Against a Hydra

“Going somewhere without telling me or letting me give you a lift,” Evan asked as he stepped in front of Ashley’s bike, grabbing the handlebars with one hand and yanking the backpack off his friend with the other, just trying to be-.

“Down in the valley, the valley so low; hang your head over, hear the wind blow,” the teen sang quickly, softly, pretending not to hear or see him, so skinny and afraid.

The nervous tick was something Evan recognized, despite the soothing tone of the singer hoping to hide behind the notes; the fidgeting of the ring on his right hand, that once had a quote etched on the outer side – now only one word remaining could be-.

“‘Rabbit’ gonna fade away next, if you’re not careful,” Evan warned, “then you’ll be left with imaging the saying, left imagining what could have anchored you and it may just be the very-.”

“Hole in the ground,” Ashley whispered, “doll fell down, I’m afraid.”

SaD – Muddle in the Middle


Muddled Meddler –

Christine punched Ashley in the arm. “Why?!”

“Why not,” he asked, moving to her other side. “She asked; I said yes. I’m not backing down.”

“Just set yourself to be beaten up, is that it?”

He shrugged. “Not like I’ve not had practice. Would you rather I ask her to ask you, instead?”

Christine shook her head, still sore that her best friend didn’t feel safe enough to confide in her. She wondered if Evan felt the same way sometimes. “They’ll continue to eat you alive.”

“If the idiots didn’t demand she has to attend that location-.”

“I might know someone on the other side of town. It would require a few busses to get there, but-.”

Ashley nodded. “See if she’s open to it. Keep me out of it.”

“Why,” she asked, aware of a few reasons why.

He playfully pushed her with his shoulder. “Why not?”

SaD – Dialogue


Today’s prompt was to focus on dialogue within a story. Well, with what few remaining brain cells there were, here it is:



The two of them continued their chess game in the library, the midday sun warming them. Evan moved his pawn into position. “I don’t like the idea of manipulating someone; it’s underhanded.”

His grandmother took the pawn with ease, certain there was a fifty-fifty chance he’d move one of three pieces she already had countermoves planned for. “Are you talking about someone you know, or just dissecting current debates in general?”

“Both. For example, the mandatory reporting law…” He moved his knight into position. “Tell me again why we haven’t made the call? What are we waiting for, something worse than what’s happened already?”

“So, law’s worth more than logic?” She positioned her queen for the double-threat.

Evan shook his head. “Doing what’s right, what’s necessary… I hate doing nothing, that’s all. And I can’t continue keeping my hopes…my opinions to myself in terms of what he should be doing to save himself.” He moved the bishop. “It’s so clear!”

She smiled inwardly. Bishop was open, and check was within sight. “He may already know what he needs to do. Maybe, he’s already tried it, too. You’re focused on one option only.”

“That’s not true. And before you say it, no, I’m not like Mom. I’m not trying to save everyone.” One pawn, one square off.

“Honey, you can’t lie to me. You’re my daughter’s child with her grandfather’s soul – bless him.” She took one more piece, chipping away at his options without him realizing it. “What he needs is something you’re already giving him. Keep that path open.”

He frowned as the knight fell. “Tell me again how I ended up between two friends who are complete opposites?”

“Because, you have a way of centering them when their souls are in turmoil. That, and you’re the big brother they need.” She put a weathered hand atop his. “He’s dealing with enough forces that would have torn any other child apart. Think of your uncle, the choices he made.”

“Sometimes, that’s why I’m trying to tell him-.” She moved her queen in for the checkmate. “Nana, that’s not funny. You distracted me.”

“Did I, now?” With that, she gave him a kiss on the cheek, then pointed to the storage bench and bookcase in the corner. “Move those things someplace else. I’ve a feeling you’re going to want to share that with a friend in need very soon.”