Inspiration for a Hero

I hope you're staying warm and healthy during this frigid start to February.  Last month, I posted a short story about a firefighter.  Today, I want to discuss another type of hero in uniform, the police officer.  A few days ago, a missing WI baby was found alive after spending the night swaddled inside a container in subzero temperatures.  One would have expected another outcome, but the child was fine, being released from the hospital that very day!  What stuck with me during the interview with the police officer who found the child was the humility he displayed when the interviewer called him a hero.  He brushed it off saying that they had help from the FBI.  He wasn't willing to take all the credit, even though it was his instincts that prompted him to search around the gas station where the child was found.  Timing was everything and imagine the outcome if the baby was left out in the cold any longer than he was.  This officer could have basked in the glory, but he chose to share it with all who worked on the case.  I have to commend the police department of West Branch, IA.  Excellent work reuniting that child with his family.  And to the officer who found the child, who is a real hero.

For a writer, inspiration can strike at any moment.  Even though I haven't researched much on missing people, I have a few missing persons in my current work in progress, The Whisperer of Storms.  My lawman, Constable Radford, investigates those missing cases, in addition to keeping my protagonist out of trouble.  I realize I've been remiss on introducing him.  May I introduce the constable; a middle-age family man and a loyal friend.  He's not afraid to crash a ball or communicate with an unmarried girl (a no-no in those days) to chase down a lead.  He shares the credit when a case is solved.  He's a good man to have around.

May angels watch over the brave men and women who uphold the law.  Thank you for keeping us safe!

Veronica

 

The Firefighter

This is another short story that I just finished.  I was inspired one night after watching the ending of Ladder 49.  This actually takes place after the conclusion of The Whisperer of Storms, my current work in progress.  If it were a movie, I'd call it an after the credits scene.

Dave could hear the sound of a PASS device going off.  It was the sound indicating that a fireman had fallen.  He belatedly realized that it was his own alarm.  He was surrounded by a thick cloud of smoke.  He was safe from the flames for the moment, though the fire was hungry and moved swiftly, eating anything that got in its way.  Dave knew he shouldn’t have gone off on his own.  Everyone told him that his rash ways would lead to an untimely death someday.  It seemed that day was upon him.  He slowly gained his feet.  Nothing appeared to be broken.  He switched off his alarm as he heard his captain’s voice crackle through on his radio.  After assuring the captain that he was alright, informing him of what happened and his possible location, he was told they would get back to him about a possible way out.  Despite the heat of the inferno, Dave felt a chill up his spine when he discovered that the way out was blocked by a wall of fire.

He had too much to live for.  There were so many things he longed to do; that he hadn’t done in his twenty-eight years.  He was supposed to just sit there and let the fire take all of that from him . . . from his family?  He thought of the woman that he loved.  What would she do without him?  He thought of the children that they would never have.  Would they have looked like her or him?  Why didn’t he ever visit his parents more often?  How would they cope with losing him?

He had watched families lose loved ones.  He tried to prevent that from happening, but he knew that he couldn’t save everyone.  He remembered a call he went on a few years ago.  It was a bad car wreck and their engine arrived first on the scene.  There were several victims; the one he rescued was a boy who wasn’t breathing nor had a pulse.  Rather than waste time getting supplies from the truck, Dave opted to do CPR on the boy.  He was able to revive him, just as the ambulances arrived. 

“David.”  A feminine voice whispered his name, pulling him back to the present.  No one called him by his full name, not even his mother.  Was he losing his mind already?  He still had enough air in his tank and it appeared to be working. 

“David.”  That was real.  He scanned the room, until he caught sight of a white figure, coming towards him from the flames.  Even though dark smoke filled the room, he could somehow see a petite, dark-haired woman who looked to be about his age.  She was so beautiful; not so much in the physical sense, but more of an otherworldly beauty.  It was difficult to explain.  What baffled him was her calm demeanor.  She smiled kindly at him.  An unusual calm descended upon him.

She beckoned him to follow her as she turned and glided down a corridor that he swore wasn’t there before.  The hem of her ice blue cloak billowed behind her as though a gentle breeze was blowing against it.   Had she come for him?  Was she going to lead him into eternity?  No, if a person was dead, it was a deceased relative that came for them.  Right?  Oh heck, anything was better than staying there to burn!

Dave followed her on wooden legs.  The ethereal gown was easy to see through the dark smoke.  It was as though she was a beacon of light, leading him home.  Why hadn’t he seen this way before?  Was he already dead?  He could see a light in front of them.  It grew the closer they got to it.  Suddenly, two dark figures emerged out of the smoky darkness beyond and flanked him on each side.  They escorted him back the way they came.  The light, Dave realized, was daylight, as his escorts led him out of the burning building. As they rushed away, the inferno engulfed what remained of the structure.

“Davy Boy!  I can’t believe it, you made it!”  Dave’s friend, Crash exclaimed, calling him by a nickname Dave used to abhor, but had grown used to it.

“There was no way to get to you, man.”  The second firefighter, Woods exclaimed.  “The way we directed you to go was blocked.  Had you gone that way, you would have been trapped.  The passageway we used had been closed off.  We almost missed it.  We had to hack our way in there.  How did you find it?”

“Where is she?”  Dave asked as he scanned the smoke-filled area that was the parking lot outside of the burning building.

“What are you talking about, Davy?”  Crash questioned.

“The lady.”  Dave explained as he looked around franticly.  “She knew my name.  She showed me the way out.”

“We didn’t see anyone.”

“She was dressed in white.”  Dave said, “She was beautiful!  You couldn’t have missed her.  You would have run right into her!”

“There was no one in that hallway!”  Crash explained, “You were by yourself.”

How could that be? Dave mused.  Had he imagined the whole thing?  Was she only a figment of his imagination?

Woods clapped him on the shoulder, “She must have been your guardian angel.”

“My what?” 

“You hear about these things all the time with close calls.”  Woods explained, “Come, we should get you checked out.  You’re limping.”

Dave could only think of one feeling later as he waited to get checked over at the hospital when he thought about his mysterious rescuer.  It wasn’t fear or a spine-tingling feeling.  It was hope.  Hope had saved him.

For all the firefighters out there, may angels guide and watch over you.

Veronica

Let It Go

I recently saw Disney's Frozen.  What a wonderful sister movie!  If you have a sister, take her!  Which sister do you identify with the most?  I am more like Anna.  I am the younger sister, therefore I understood what it was like when my sister outgrew the things we once enjoyed doing together.  In my youth, I used to be more impulsive in matters of the heart; where I'd mistake infatuation for something more.  I know my sister would have said the same as Elsa did if I had made a rash decision about a man.  Though Elsa reminded me more of my sister, there was a little part of me that could identify with Elsa, especially during the Let It Go scene where she builds her castle.  I am like Elsa, where I hide my talent, yet in solitude, I create.  First, I begin by creating a character like Elsa created Olaf.  Next, she found a place to build her castle, which is the setting.  The ice castle represents the story that I'm writing; the ice walls are the structure of the plot and it grows and branches out.  If only writing went that quickly and smoothly!  My heroine in my novel The Whisperer of Storms could identify with Elsa as well.  She has kept a secret about herself, but will get the opportunity to let it go as Elsa did.  

In addition to the holidays, this month also had a Friday the 13th.  Not only that, but it was also the 13th year of this century.  Some members of my family believe in unlucky number 13!  It reminds me of researching the Romany (Gypsies) because they are very superstitious.  They believe certain objects are either good luck or bad luck.  It makes me sometimes wonder if we might have some Romany someplace in our family tree, especially with those of us who have dark hair/eyes and an intuitive nature!

Since the holiday season will soon come to pass, I am looking forward to having more time to read and write.  My New Year's resolution is to finish my novel in 2014 and hopefully get it published the same year.  Stay tuned for updates!

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

Veronica

The Holidays and Goodreads

The holidays are upon us!  I hope you are enjoying this holiday weekend with friends and family.  It got me thinking about holiday decorating and shopping.  My autumn/harvest decorations will most likely stay up through this weekend.  I do not believe in shopping on Thanksgiving day.  I have never gone out shopping on Black Friday, but I do shop online if I find good deals that are on the shopping list.  I haven't started my Christmas shopping yet.  I normally start on Black Friday, but didn't find a thing that I wanted nor needed this year.  I try to send out Christmas cards around the second week in December.  I usually start putting up Christmas decorations in early December, but the tree doesn't go up until mid-December and stays up through January 6th.  We celebrate the 12 days of Christmas that way.  When do you like to do your shopping and decorating?  Are you an early bird or do you wait until the last minute?

As you can see by the new gadget I've added that I've recently joined Goodreads. I have spent some time building up my book list.  It's difficult to remember all the books that I've read in my life.  If I can't remember much about a book, I'll mark it as read, but I don't rate it.  I plan to review some of my favorite books when I find time.  Check out my page.  Can you tell what my favorite genre is? 

Enjoy the rest of this holiday weekend!

Veronica  

The Stranger

Just when I thought chivalry was dead, a younger man held the door for me at a restaurant today.  He really took me by surprise and I need to learn not to judge by appearances.  He was clad in a leather Harley jacket, complete with a bandana, sunglasses and stubble.  I guessed him to be in his early thirties.  He was just shy of 6 feet in height.  He had dark hair.  I am left to wonder what color his eyes were since he was wearing sunglasses.  He was in front of me and I remember thinking as he opened the door, that he'd only hold it for himself.  Not only did he hold it open, but he held it for my daughter and I to walk through.  She was lagging behind, but he held that door open for her.  I smiled back at him and thanked him.  He seemed the quiet type and replied unsmiling with a "Yep."  As I got on the road again, I kept thinking about that courteous stranger in the leather jacket.  I wondered what his story was.  I wondered where he came from and who taught him his manners.  He really intrigued me and I'm thinking he could be an inspiration for a potential character.  Isn't it funny where inspiration can strike?

What I love about driving in the country on a nice day is being allowed time to think.  I thought about a scene that I need to change in my work in progress.  It doesn't work the way I have it right now, so I have to ax a scene and revise another one!  The discarded scene will go in my delete scenes file, since I don't like to completely delete anything.  Hopefully, I can stay awake long enough tonight after the kids go to bed to work on it without falling asleep in front of the computer!  If I didn't need sleep, I'd have more time to read and write!

Veronica

The Never-Ending Dream

I've decided to give you a sample of my writing.  I found this under "Your Weekly Writing Prompt" from Writer's Digest Week in Review Sept. 28, 2013.  I normally don't participate in the writing prompts but this one interested me.  

At an old bookstore, you find a book that helps you interpret your dreams. But something is strange about it. You fall asleep reading the book, and find yourself in a dream that you cannot wake up from. What is it? And how will you snap back to reality?

Strange enough, I had a dream like this once when I was a child.  I was able to wake up, but I kept falling back to sleep and right back into the dream.  I knew it was a dream, but I couldn't wake up!  I remember trying to open my eyes, but I couldn't.  I do not remember how I finally got myself to wake up, but I'll let my imagination take over with the retelling from an adult POV:

Autumn leaves crunched under my feet as I entered an old bookstore.  A bell on the door announced my arrival.  The scent of old books and a couple of gray cats greeted me before the wizened shopkeeper did.  He directed me to a miscellaneous section of used books.  In perusing the selection, I was able to find what I had been looking for:  A Guide to Interpret Dreams.  The book was an old, brown hardcover with black embossed lettering on the spine and yellowed pages. I paid for my purchase and gave a farewell pat to the cats before I left.   
When I got home, I changed into my pajamas and sat down in my favorite reading chair.  I held the book in my hands, studying the cover.  I had been having a reoccurring dream as of late, where I am alone on a dark night.  The only thing I could remember about the place was a courtyard with a stone fountain.  As I opened the book, I wondered if it would provide me with answers.  After reading a few pages about symbolism, I began to feel drowsy . . .   

I find myself in the dark of night, in the courtyard of my dream, wearing only a white gown.  I suddenly sense that I am no longer alone.  I am frightened because I know a man is looking for me and what he wants from me.  His seductive lure beckons me.  I cannot escape him.  Out of the darkness, he emerges.  His pale skin is a sharp contrast to his midnight black hair and cloak.  He takes a step towards me.  I back away into a hard stone surface.  I look behind me to discover it is the fountain.  I look into the water and I suddenly see myself asleep in my home with the dream book.   
It's only a dream! I tell myself.  
I attempt to open my eyes, but they feel as though they are glued shut!  I look back at my pursuer who is closing in faster than humanly possible.  Was he not just ten feet away?  He is right in front of me!  I will not run.  That will only entice the hunter in him.  Besides, I have nowhere to go.  He will catch me before I can take one step.  If flight is out of the question, the other option is to confront him.  
"Why are you keeping me here?!"  I demand.
He smiles and I can see the hint of a fang glinting in the moonlight.
I attempt to open my eyes again, but I cannot.  No, there’s another way.
He reaches out to touch me.  I tumble backwards into the fountain.

I woke up in my chair, with the dream book in my hands.  I went to the bathroom to splash water on my face.  As I stood in front of the mirror, I discovered two small puncture wounds on my neck!  
       

Just in time for Halloween and the Dracula series premiere!  I wanted to give you an idea of how I can spin a tale.  As I mentioned above, my inspiration was from a childhood nightmare.  The most challenging part for me was figuring out how to wake from the dream.  After a few days of sitting on it, I figured out that a body of water was the key, something that would show her that she was dreaming and showed the way out, thus I created the fountain.  I decided to use past tense for her conscious parts and present tense for the dream.  I would love to describe the bookstore with more detail, but we were only allowed a maximum of 500 words.

Happy Halloween!

Veronica

More Than One Baby

In a recent post from Writer's Digest, they talked about not limiting yourself to just one story and how many authors hit it big with their second and third novels.  I plan to have more than one baby, that is, I plan to write more novels after I complete my first.  These are a couple that I've been dreaming up:

Contemporary Suspense - A young homicide detective with strong instincts is assigned a high profile case.  Contains paranormal activity.

Paranormal Contemporary - This is a Twilight-inspired tale that I tentatively titled Nightfall.  It begins with the heroine crashing a funeral.  (No, I did not get the idea from Wedding Crashers.)

With working in the library recently, I had a girl ask for help finding a book for Accelerated Reader.  She said she wasn't allowed to read anything with magic in it.  This surprised me.  It's good that parents monitor what their children are reading, but to limit them that much.  I kept thinking, "No Harry Potter?  No Lord of the Rings?"  I couldn't imagine my parents putting limitations like that on me!  I wouldn't have been able to read anything that sparked my interest!  How depressing!  The only limit I put on my own children is mature content.  I guess that means I will have to hide all my romance novels when they get into their teens!  ;o)  I think it's fine to monitor what your child reads, but be reasonable!  You could be limiting them in their future endeavors!  Let their imaginations soar!

With the start of October, I've been busy harvesting the garden and working on Halloween costumes.  I am also working on a little piece from the WD weekly writing prompt called The Never-Ending Dream.  Keep watching for it.

Veronica