A Special Memory

May’s theme for All Day and All Night Writing Divas is memories. Happy memories are the best kind, so the first thing I thought of when deciding what to write was how ecstatic my husband and I were when we found out I was pregnant.

Sometimes these little bundles of joy don’t come easily. That certainly was so in my case. For four years, that elusive stork kept avoiding my door, or chimney, or wherever it was that the stork liked to drop off his bundle. So for me, there were no pink or blue booties to knit, no dirty diapers to change, no joining the Momma Club. *Sigh*

But then one day--it wasn’t in May but in June--I had a funny feeling. What if... what if...?

I didn’t mention my suspicions to my hubby, and believe me, that took some doing! “What’s new, honey?” he would say.

“Oh, nothing, dear.” Right. Any minute I was ready to explode from anticipation.

Finally, after a week of pins and needles, I bought one of those over-the-counter tests. Whether the positive results were supposed to turn it pink or not, I don’t remember. I do remember I wasn’t supposed to drop the test tube. Well, at four in the morning I could hardly contain myself--I dropped the tube!

But the kit had turned the right color. Yes! Double Yes!

Now, I had a choice: should I awaken my sleeping husband and share the news? Or should I let the poor man get his rest?

No contest. I woke him up.

It took him a few minutes to figure out what I was saying--I was that excited. Then he and I hugged each other, dreaming about our new child, and praying that I really was pregnant.

Later in the day, I went to my doctor for a blood pregnancy test--to know for sure if our long wait was over. When I returned home to sit by the phone for the results, I found a single red rose on the kitchen table, along with a note written on the back of an envelope.

I’ve saved the note, all these years, to help me remember the magic of that day. Here it is:

 

“Works cannot describe...?” I scratched my head.  Oh, he meant to say “words.”

When my hubby came home, I showed him the note and we both got a big kick out of it. Ever since then, whenever one of us gets really excited, we say, “Works cannot describe...!”

P.S. the blood test came back positive and in January I gave birth to our beautiful miracle baby. She’s now a lovely young lady and we bless the day she came into our lives!



Hope you enjoyed my May memory!

Susanne

Susanne Marie Knight http://www.susanneknight.com/
Read outside the box: award-winning Romance Writing With A Twist!
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Memories: Ours and Our Characters

Memories. Good ones. Bad ones. We tend to push aside the ones we don't want to remember, but they have a nasty habit of surfacing at times.

Good ones, sometimes embellished with our creative perception, pop up more often and make us happy. Savor the good ones; know the bad ones but don't let them taint your life.

Our characters have memories...it's called backstory. Every hero and heroine has things in their past, good and bad, that they deal with. Maybe it's a failed romance, bad business deal, death of a loved one...all things mimicking "real life" events that happen to everyone. The bad memories are a catalyst for better motivation for character change and growth.

In Gone to the Dogs, Katie has to deal with the memory of her boyfriend's betrayal. Determined to move on with her life, she remembers his actions, and uses her self-control to push herself forward and change her life.

In Street of Dreams, Eileen recalls how her police department still treats women as "unequal" partners in her detective division. She uses her instincts to prove her worth, and strives through the book to show her skill qualities.

I could go on with all of my other books, but you get the idea. And, the heroes have their share of bad memories to overcome. These are fiction; I've created memories for my heroes and heroines.

In my nonfiction book, Guilty Survivor - Memoirs of Tamerla Kendall, I had no part in creating memories. What I ghostwrote are Tamera's memories of her life living in a war zone. There are good memories for her; but the book focuses on her hardships, and how she managed to survive. Her courage and determination to life through a was she didn't want enabled her to become the motivated-to-succeed woman she is today.



http://www.mariannestephens.net
Photos: Flickr: ibookperson, BuhSnarf, and 'Playingwithbrushes' photostreams

Truth Really is Stranger Than Fiction

Several times in the past when writing stories, I drew on my own memories... and then was told by several members of my crit group that they couldn't believe those things would happen. 

In The Christmas Curse, my heroine has terrible memories of Christmas -- one of them is when she got a training bra in her Christmas stocking:

Thankfully, this wasn't as embarrassing as her eleventh Christmas, when Santa left a size 28AA training bra and a trial-sized box of Kotex in her stocking—a lovely tale that made the rounds at school, thanks to the big mouths of her two older brothers, and resulted in much bra strap snapping upon her return from vacation. She probably still had the bruises on her back to prove it.

Yes... yes that really did happen to me.  Though I only had one older brother at home.

And in Pregnancy Cravings, I used the memory of the time when I was pregnant myself and DYING for salt and vinegar chips (taking an entire lunch period to find them ... none of the stores by my job carried them as this was when they had first come out).

Her obsession started innocently enough. In desperation, and unable to find the specific item she needed at the last three stores, Patrice ran to the counter of a little mom-and- pop grocery. A quick glance at her watch told her she'd been gone for nearly an hour. How was that possible?

"Do you have salt and vinegar kettle cooked chips?" She directed the question to the flannel-clad back of the clerk at the register.

Both memories were actually the impetus for the idea for the entire story of each.

I like to hope, when bad things happen, some day I'll pull out that memory and use it for good ... in a story.

What are some memories you have that you think would make great story starters?

You can find Marianne Arkins at her website and blog.

Memories sweet and sad.

This month is all about memories. In the past month mine were kicked into gear when one member of my family discovered she was sick. Thinking about losing her set my mine to memories of all the times I’ve shared with her in my life. My brother’s first baby, and she was so beautiful. Oh, yes, I know you’re thinking prejudice, family members always think a baby is beautiful. She truly was then as now with features as fine as a sculptured porcelain doll so much like her mother’s. She hated me. No kisses or hugs for her auntie until her sister came along a few years later. Maybe it was just that when sister came, she was at an age to reach out to those outside her nucleus family, but I had never had a baby reject me as strongly as she did, a sign of strength that she’s needed this past month. As a toddler, auntie got to babysit. When her mother died, I had the sad responsibility of telling her her mommy would never be coming back. She drew away from me again then. I think it was the association of never seeing mommy and the one who told her. Still through the years I was a part time surrogate mommy for her and her sisters whenever I could be, helping my brother as much as possible in raising three small daughters alone. I remember one shopping trip for school clothes, each one of them looking for something different in what they wanted. One day on a shopping trip of my own, I caught her ditching school. Ah, the look on her face when she realized she was busted. I never told her dad. Dads find out those kind of things without aunts being snitches. When she announced she was getting married, at the justice of the peace’s, the family threw a fit. We all wanted her to have a wedding she’d remembered. I did her flowers, and the wedding was held up when our son’s daughter decided to make that the day to enter into the world. We stayed as long as we could for the birth before we raced to the wedding to deliver the flowers, the bouquet for the beautiful bride. It was, though starting late, a lovely wedding. She reminded me so much of her mother on her wedding day. I’ve had the joy of sharing her three beautiful daughters, babysitting them when mommy and daddy took some time for themselves. When the news came of her illness we were all shocked and frightened. We’ve received good news in that even though it is cancer, it is of a type that responses well to treatment. We’ve got a while yet before we’ll know for certain she’ll be free of it, but if strength and courage make the difference, supported by love from all of those around her, she’ll beat it as she has all other challenges in her life. I’ve never told her, and I do want to for all to read, how very proud we are of her and how much having her in our lives has brought us joy. Love you, Renee.

larion aka larriane wills, two names one author, thousands of stories.

http://www.larriane.com