Author: dianathormoto

Saturday Short: Jam Jars

/ dianathormoto

photography of strawberry jam in canning jars

Holly looked at the cooling jars of strawberry jam with her arms on her hips, head cocked to one side. The jars sparked on the red and white checked cloth, like jewels but tastier. Jonas walked up and stood beside her.

“So what did you put in this batch?” he asked.

“What’d you mean? It’s strawberry jam, of course.”

“Yeah, but you always put something else in it. Remember last year?”

Holly shook her head and shivered. “Wouldn’t do that again and you know it.”

Jonas raised an eyebrow at Holly before walking out of the kitchen. When he was gone, Holly turned back to the jars with a smile on her face. Putting a pinch of foresight into the jam last year was a bad idea; it made the jam taste too tart and people had visions they didn’t understand for a couple of weeks, but Holly had smoothed everything over. This year she wouldn’t make that mistake. This year she just added a dash of curiosity to the jam. What could possibly go wrong?

Rules for Novels

/ dianathormoto

As we move into the homestretch of NaNoWriMo, it seemed only appropriate to practice my calligraphy on a quote about writing novels.

"There are 3 rules for writing a novel. Unfortunately, no one knows what they are." ~W. Somerset Maughan

“There are 3 rules for writing a novel. Unfortunately, no one knows what they are.” ~W. Somerset Maughan

I love the precise number of rules, that no one knows, for writing a novel. It can feel that way sometimes, especially in the middle of writing a first draft, as if everyone is acting like they know what they are doing when they really have as little a clue as you do. What I think is really great about this quote, though, is that it is freeing. If no one knows the three rules are, then we don’t have to worry about following or breaking them. Then we can just get on with the business of writing.

I hope you have having a lovely November. And, if you are participating in NaNoWriMo, I wish you amazing writing days and nights filled with dreams that answer all your noveling questions.

Saturday Short: The Typewriter in the Yard

/ dianathormoto

typewriter photo

She found the typewriter on a weathered desk shoved behind a chest-high stand of dried weeds near the shed. Mavis stood looking at the typewriter with one hand on her hip and the other shading her eyes from the late afternoon sun. Sweat from clearing weeds and bramble from her newly purchased property dripped down the back her neck.

“Well, it ain’t the weirdest thing I’ve seen today,” she said to herself. “Better condition than I would have thought being out here.”

As she finished talking the keys on the typewriter depressed as if someone was responding. Mavis jumped back, hand flying to her chest. “Now that’s the weirdest thing I’ve seen today.”

As the typewriter keys started clacking again, she ran for the house and threw open the porch door without breaking her stride. A few moments and a few curses later, she ran back with a piece of paper in her damp hand.

“Now don’t you be typing while I thread this paper through, you hear.” She waited and nothing happened, so she slid the paper into the typewriter. As soon as her hands left the machine, it began to type with faint words from its nearly exhausted ribbon appearing on the paper.

“Nice to have someone to talk to,” the message read.

Mavis fingered the large ring strung on a cord around her neck. “Isn’t it just? But shall we get out of the sun?”

“Much obliged.”

Mavis picked up the typewriter and walked back into her house. The sounds of clacking keys and laughter soon filled the air.

“Follow Me!”

/ dianathormoto

 

photograph of an arched walkway between buildings

“Follow me!” she heard a voice call out from the narrow walkway between the buildings.

“Excuse me?” Marie asked, sticking her head into the entrance her head spinning from the heady fragrance of the rain splattered flowers.

“Follow me!” the voice called again and Marie felt a hand touch her cheek.

She spun around, but saw no one but her shadow dancing under her.

“Follow me!” a whisper at the end of the archway.

Marie pursed her lips, then smiled, and stepped onto the path.

Take a Shot

/ dianathormoto

I love watching hockey and one of the greatest players (aka The Great One) was Wayne Gretzky. So because it is finally getting colder where I live, I thought a quote by The Great One would be appropriate.

"You miss 100% of the shots you don't take." ~Wayne Gretzky

“You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.” ~Wayne Gretzky

I love this quote because you don’t have to be a hockey player to appreciate the advice. Whether you are an athlete, a writer, an artist, a student, or whatever identity you happen to be inhabiting at the time, it is important to remember that you have to show up and take a chance for anything to happen. Otherwise, you don’t do anything and have already failed. Starting is hard, trying and missing is hard, but it isn’t as hard as the regret of not trying. And, oh my goodness, when you make the goal or reach whatever milestone you have for yourself, you’ll be glad you risked the shot.

I hope you have a fantastic day and remember to be brave and take the shot. 🙂

Saturday Short: The Man on the Rocks

/ dianathormoto
Photo of the Seashore

Photo of the Seashore

Whenever the sea and the sky came together as one study in grey, and the sun was nothing more than a memory, Lily would walk out to the beach and see a man standing on the rocks. She’d never said hello or walked out to join him. Lily made a deal with herself that she’d talk to him if he ever turned around. He never turned around, not even when she’d see him as she went out for a run and came back an hour later. She never saw him in town or anywhere else except on the rocks when the skies were grey and the sea churned. He never turned around until today.

Saturday Short: Changing Signs

/ dianathormoto
"sign post"

“sign post”

As the twinkle lights on the nearby trees clicked on with the fading daylight, Ryan continued to glare at the post with so many signs attached that it looked like a tree. Then his mouth turned into a grin, lighting up his face like the lights around him. He watched as one of the sign markers changed, letters swirling into a new configuration—a sign just for him. Ryan laughed and took off at a run.

Ability to Choose

/ dianathormoto

Happy Friday! Can you believe that it is almost the end of October? I can’t believe that the month has flown by so quickly. You know that that means, right? November is coming along with the chaotic days of writing for National Novel Writing Month.  I thought this quote was relevant in light of it almost being November, which means many things, most of which include more work for the month.

"It is our ability to choose which makes us human" ~Madeleine L'Engle

“It is our ability to choose which makes us human” ~Madeleine L’Engle

First, how could I resist quoting a wonderful writer when it is almost time for Wrimos to come out and furiously type together at write-ins? I couldn’t resist. Also, I love the quote because it reminds us that we have the ability to choose what to do with our lives and that makes us human.

So for November, I choose to throw caution to the wind (along with my inner editor) and write until I simply can write no more. I choose to pour words onto the page in the reckless, fun pursuit of creating for no other reason than I want to create worlds with my words. I choose to spend time with fellow writers who understand that sometimes you just need to write and other times you just need to eat some more chocolate.

So whether our choices are big or small, whether we choose something for the day or for the long haul, we have to remember that our choices matter and that they matter in our core. We are our choices and we are all humans fumbling through this messy world together. I think that’s a good thing to remember as we finish up a month and stride forth into another.

Hope you have a wonderful day, no matter how you choose to spend it. 🙂

Saturday Short: Around the Bend

/ dianathormoto

photograph of hiking trail with boulders and scrubs under a clear skyUnder a sky so blue that Renee thought it could be the sea, she listened to the dirt and gravel crunch under her feet. As she approached the bend in the trail she wished, as always, that she’d find something other than more boulders and heat on the other side. Her breath caught when she smelled the faintest note of roses and jasmine mixed with the sun-scorched air. Maybe, finally, she’d found her way home. She smiled and began to run.

Saturday Short: The Door in the Breezeway

/ dianathormoto

Hello, weekend! Saturday morning’s always seem bright with possibility, so I thought we celebrate with a short, short piece of fiction based on a photo. I love that Sarah Addison Allen shares a super-short fiction piece every Sunday, so I thought I’d follow her lead. I decided to have my short on Saturday, though, to usher in the weekend. Hope you enjoy it.

photography of two men working on a door in a breezeway

“two men in a breezeway” by Diana Thormoto

Charlotte rushed out her door, car keys in her hands only to find the breezeway occupied by two men working on a cherry-stained door. She frowned at the chisels laying on the saw bench and the bucket of tools sitting on her stoop. Why were they working on a door here?

“Excuse me? What are you doing?”

They turned around and smiled. “Working on your door, of course,” the one holding the chisel said.

“I don’t need a new door and I certainly didn’t ask for one.” Charlotte rapped her knuckles on her solid wood door and wondered if her HOA had messed up a work order, again, it wouldn’t be the first time.

“Oh, we’re not replacing that one, ma’am,” the man holding the door in place said as he turned back to his colleague.

“Then which one are you replacing?” Charlotte crossed her arms in front of her chest and frowned.

The man with the chisel smiled. “The one that leads to your dreams.”