Snippet: Part 4

>> 8.31.2009

“Lily, mind your manners.”

“Oh, she’s okay. She’s just a very affectionate girl, aren’t you, Lily? Are you going to introduce yourself?”

He held out his hand saying, “Kieran Hunter.”

Reaching up to shake his hand, she replied, ”Caroline Irving, but my friends call me Caro.” Lily squirmed under Caro’s hand, whined and leaned against her chest. Caro’s breath wheezed out as she said, “Okay, Lily. I get it. You don’t want to be left out, do you?”

Lily grinned, and whoofed her agreement.

Kieren groaned, “Lily, behave.” Then he realized that Caro was giggling. He couldn’t remember the last time he heard an adult laugh like that, so exuberant. Most of the people he knew would never giggle. Laughter, like everything else was controlled and very, very proper. Of course, they also wouldn’t get down in the sand and play with his dog. Usually, they just ignored her.

When Lily toppled Caro onto her back and began licking every inch of exposed skin, he flinched. The giggling continued, then burst into full-blown laughter. He shook his head. She wasn’t like anyone he knew.

After a few minutes, she looked up, pushed Lily’s head away and said, “You might give me a hand, you know.” He stretched out his hand, she grasped it and pulled herself into a standing position.

“So Kieran, what brings you and your very visible Lily out today? I’m here every morning and don’t remember seeing the two of you before. And, believe me, I would remember meeting Lily. Oh, and you too, of course.”

His lips twitched at being an afterthought. “We just moved into a house down the beach. So, now we’re exploring, right Lily?”

Lily grinned and whoofed.

“Well then, welcome to both of you. I live there.” She swung around and indicated the lighthouse on the point.

“You live in a lighthouse?”

“Yeh, isn’t it great? Which one’s yours?”

“It’s the gray and white Shingle style at the end of the beach.”

“Oh, I thought . . .” her voice trailed off.

“You thought what?”

“Well, I must have been misinformed. I was told that a blind man had moved in there with his . . . dog. Um, huh.”


“Well, it’s just you are wearing sunglasses and it’s not very bright out here. You’re not blind, are you? I mean you couldn’t be. You helped me up, shook my hand.” She stopped talking at his heavy sigh.

“No, I’m not blind now.”


“I was in an accident about a two years ago. When I purchased the house, I was the blind man with his dog.”

“That’s incredible. How did you, I mean, if you don’t mind my asking … ?”

“Get my sight back?”


“Well, the loss of vision was only partially due to the head trauma. Mostly, it was what they call psychological or hysterical blindness.” He reached up and removed the sunglasses.

She looked into his face, unveiled for the first time, noticing a scar that ran from the corner of his left eye back to his hairline at the temple. “If that’s from the accident, it looks like you took a solid hit to the head.”


The Wild Wood

>> 8.30.2009

Once she ran through a wild wood
where trees had faces that gazed upon the sun
and voices that spoke in softly rustling wind.
Their arms lifted her as she climbed into the sky;
their bodies became her shelter from life’s sudden storms.

In the midst of that wild wood lived
the friends that joined her play. The dryads
wisped through the possum grapes, laughter
trilling and singing across the glades
as her child-self chased behind.

The fairies flitted among the leaves
dancing on the vines overhead, tickling
and teasing against her skin as she slid
down the creek bank then together skipping
hand-in-hand across the dappled water.

From the cavern near the creek slipped
the amethyst-eyed dragon that flew
the child across the sundown sky soaring
higher and higher to touch the clouds
before bringing her safely home once more,

then reappearing within her nightly dreams.


Snippet Title?

>> 8.24.2009

Someone suggested to me to call the Snippet story, The Unnamed.  That's one option although I am as yet undecided.  As the ending is still uncertain, the name itself could lead to the conclusion.

So, my question is this - what do all of you think this story should be named?  Give me some suggestions to consider.  I'll post them here, and we will take a poll to determine a consensus.  I'll use the title to develop the conclusion to the story.

Anyone have an idea?  If so, leave me a comment to this post and we'll see what develops.

I look forward to hearing your ideas regarding the title and ultimate direction for the story.


Quotes for Today

>> 8.23.2009

"And here is my secret, a very simple secret:  it is only with the heart that one can see clearly; what is essential is invisible to the eye."   ~Antoine de St.-Exupery, The Little Prince

"With an eye made quiet by the power of harmony, and the deep power of joy, we see into the life of things."  ~William Wordsworth

(Photo:, protected under Creative Commons 2.0)


Just a little Note

>> 8.21.2009

As you can see, I've been busy updating the look of this blog. As I'm new to the blogging world, there was somewhat of a learning curve. Fortunately, I have a very good friend TaunaLen who has been assisting me. I hope you like the new look. Let me know what you think about it.

I also have been working on a story for the Talent Trove Your Story and am just about ready to submit. I'll post a link once I have. I'm also working on another piece of the 'Snippet' story.

Well, that's all for this little note, but I will be back soon.


A Note of Interest

>> 8.14.2009

I received a notice a short time ago about which I thought some of you might be interested.

It seems that Talent Trove,, is having a Your Story Contest. The story must be unpublished, 1,000 words maximum and may be in any of several genres. The winner of the contest earns $250.00 and their story will be the foundation for a movie produced by Talent Trove.

Details may be found on their site at

Although I have never had any personal dealings with them to date, I have been approached for a link exchange with the site. It seems that their mission is to provide an open forum for artists in multiple medias to showcase their talents and to allow people and firms looking for talent to see those artists.

I thought this sounded interesting and will be submitting a story to the contest as well. It can't hurt and at the very least I may reach additional readers and friends.


Snippet: Part 3

>> 8.12.2009

As the animal crested the dune, she said, “Oh. My. God. What on earth is that?”

He glanced at her long enough for her to see the slight smile on his face, then said, “That’s my dog, Lilith. Lily for short.”

“There’s nothing short about that animal. Are you sure it’s a dog? ‘Cause it kind of looks like a miniature wooly mammoth. Or, maybe a small horse. A very hairy, small horse. Having a really, really bad hair day.”

“Shhhh. Don’t say that so loud. You’ll hurt her feelings.”


“Lily is very sensitive. She was the runt of the litter and well, if I hadn’t taken her home, they would have gotten rid of her.”

“That’s barbaric!”

“Yeh, I know. Anyway, she was a little homely as a weanling pup.”

“I can see that.”

“Hey, now. That’s my dog you’re insulting.”

“I’m not being insulting, I’m being honest. She’s . . . really BIG.” The dog was only six feet away but didn’t appear to be slowing down. “Ummm. She will stop, won’t she?”

He turned back towards the dog and held one hand out palm forward, then slashed downward. The dog sat back on her haunches and slid the remaining distant showering both of them with sand. Tongue lolling, panting, Lily sat at their feet looking at them.

As he began brushing sand from his jeans, he said, “Sorry about that. She’s still a puppy so we haven’t quite mastered polite introductions.”

A puppy?”

“Yes.” His eyes were crinkling at the corners.

“What type of dog is she?”

“Lily’s a mixed breed. Part Irish Wolfhound for sure, and the vet thinks maybe part Newfoundland as well.”

“She’s huge. And hairy.”

“Oh, she’s just a growing girl. She won’t reach her full potential until about three years of age. If she continues along the lines of her mother, she should weigh about one-hundred and thirty pounds and top out about a little under three feet in height.”

“Gawd. You mean to tell me she’ll weigh more than I do?”

He looked her over before saying, “Well, that’s not saying much, but she's probably nearly there now.”

“Hmmmm.” She looked down at the dog sitting between them. Lily looked up at her and stretched her mouth wide, happy with the attention of the two humans. “Did you see that? She smiled at me.”

He ruffled the fur at her head, and Lily leaned into him. “Dogs can’t smile, but she’s a very good-natured pup.”

Squatting down, she was eyeball-to-eyeball when she addressed the dog. “Just goes to show what he knows, doesn’t it Lily,” running her hands over Lily’s head then stroking her neck “By the way, Lily, everyone calls me Caro. I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Lily rumbled and slurped her tongue across Caro’s cheek in acknowledgement.


Just a little note

>> 8.06.2009

Everyone seemed to enjoy the snippet of story, so I have another installment for you. Still rough draft, untitled and uncertain as to where it's going. Sometimes that's the way it works, though. I just sit down and start typing, or writing and see what develops. Sometimes, I get a complete idea and then flesh it out.

So, see what you think, and I'll see where it leads us.

Thank you for all your wonderful comments and feedback. It's immensely gratifying to have readers to enjoy my work. Whenever I get bogged down, or discouraged, I look back at the wonderful words you have left me, and start again.



Snippet Update: Part 2, Untitled Story

“Don’t you know you shouldn’t sneak up behind someone? You might get socked, or something,” she said.

“I didn’t sneak anywhere. I was just walking my dog.”

She slowly turned in a circle before raising her eyebrows in question. “Your dog? Is he a ghost?”

“What is this fascination you have with ghosts? There are no such thing as ghosts.”


“Yes, really.”

“Okay, if it makes you happy to believe that, go for it.”

“It does, because it’s fact.”

“Okaaay, then, where’s your dog?”

“Say what?”

“Your dog. The one you said you were walking. I don’t see any dog, so I just thought he must be a ghost. I guess he could be a figment of your imagination, but I don’t really know you well enough to declare you crazy.”

“Let me get this straight. If I said I had a ghost dog, I wouldn’t be crazy, but if I said that the dog was a figment of my imagination, I would?”

“Yeh.” When he made a noise that was somewhat of a cross between a growl and horribly-put-upon sigh, she laughed.

“Do you know my father?”


“If you had accompanied that noise with rolling eyes, you would have perfectly imitated him. I didn’t know anyone else actually made that kind of sound.”

“I understand his pain,” he mumbled.

“I heard that! Yeesh, clone-alert.” She turned back to check her equipment, examining the image captured on the LCD. “EEEEEEEEEEEE!”

“What? What’s wrong?”


“Is that all? God, I thought something bit you, or stung you, or . . .”

“Is that all?”

“Well, there’s always another sunrise, isn’t there?”

“Now, I know you must be a long, lost relative on my father’s side of the family.”


“There’s always another sunrise. It’s not like it’s a real job,” she responded. “Isn’t that what you mean?”

“Well, …”

“I’ll have you know, this is my job. I’m a professional photographer.”

“A professional? You mean you get paid to take photographs?”

“Yeh, that’s right. Don’t know what to say now, do you. It’s different when there’s money involved, isn’t it? Yes, I get paid to take photographs. I have a contract with a publisher for a book that I’m finishing, and I display at several galleries.”

“Galleries. You mean like an artist? Well, I guess that explains the ghost thing then.”

“Oh, because I’m an artist, I’m a flake?”

“You said it, I didn’t.”

“Well, I’m not the one walking an invisible dog.”

“She’s not invisible.”

“Really, because I still don’t see any sign of her. Perhaps I was too hasty in deciding your mental faculties are intact.”

“She’s not invisible. She’s just exploring.” He placed two fingers in his mouth, and shrilled out a whistle.


He whistled again then turned toward what sounded like a horse at full gallop coming from the other side of the dune.


A Snippet

>> 8.03.2009

Just a snippet, a prompted writing based on a line: "He was soon borne away by the waves and lost in darkness and distance." ~ Mary Shelley, Frankenstein
Don't know where, or even if it's going somewhere yet.

Perfect timing, she thought. The sun had just appeared above the horizon. It looked like a big, golden Chinese lantern arising from the dark waters to light the day. And the sky was dressed in multi-color stripes hovering over an ocean that looked like a sheet of midnight glass. “Yeh, nothing like a little purple prose to start the day,” she said.

She focused her camera, double-checking the settings and exposures.

“That should be a good one,” she mumbled.

“Excuse me?” a male voice asked.

“Jeezus! Give me a heart attack, why don’t you?” The man had just popped in behind her like some ghost in a horror movie. “Hey, you are real, aren’t you?” she asked.

“Excuse me?”

Well, he has a nice voice even if his timing sucks.


About This Blog

The name for this blog was inspired by a quote by Nietzsche, below.

"Dancing in all its forms cannot be excluded from the curriculum of all noble education; dancing with the feet, with ideas, with words, and, need I add that one must also be able to dance with the pen?" ~ Friedrich Nietzsche

I plan on this being the start of an incredible journey of discovery and creativity. I invite you to bring your pen, and come dance with me!


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