2020 Fall Writing Frenzy!

I’m participating in the #FallWritingFrenzy contest!! Whoo hoo!

How it works…
Write a KidLit story under 200 words that is inspired by one of the provided images. It’s for any age of KidLit AND the contest is still open (Update: closed now) if you are interested! Find out more here.

Also a quick thank you to Kaitlyn Sanchez and Lydia Lukidis for hosting the contest!

And now, onto my entry!
I chose this image because it tickled my funny bone. (Please keep reading despite that joke.)

Image 9, courtesy of Unsplash

136 words
Twitter:
@kelasalvia

Dem Bones

“Hey, Sam! The leg bone’s connected to the…”
“I’m not singing that song again, Bart.”
“Aw come on, pleaasssee?”
“Fine! The leg bone’s connected to the… thigh bone.”
“YES! And the thigh bone’s connected to the… back bone. The back bone’s—”
“You really love that song, don’t you, Bart?”
“Well, it’s all about skeletons and—”
“And we’re skeletons. Yeah I get it, Bart.”
“Lotta kids this year, Sam. But where are all the skeleton costumes?”
“Times are changing. They’re dressing like square people with swords now.”
“Well, at least we still have our song. The neck bone’s connected to the—”

“What the! A talking skeleton!”

WHOMP!

“SAM! HELP ME, SAM! That kid took out my leg with his sword!”
“Yeah, Bart. Looks like the leg bone’s not connected to the… thigh bone.”
“That’s heartless, Sam. Heartless.”

My First Poetry Friday!

Hello all! This is my first time participating in Poetry Friday. Yay! I recently heard about it from one of my wonderful critique partners, and I’m excited to read new poems and share my own as well! (More about Poetry Friday here.)

This Friday, there is also a giveaway for the lovely picture book, NIGHT WISHES!! It is open until September 30th. It looks amazing and I can’t wait to read it! There are also many other poems to read if you follow the giveaway link.

And now for my first shared poem! *drum roll* I hope it will uplift you! 🙂

SHINE

I am tiny, gritty, worn-
one piece of sand on a vast beach.
My presence is lost to all,
but those nearest.

And no matter how loud I shout,
the waves drown my voice.
The salt parches my throat.
The water pushes me down.

But I am no piece of dirt.
I am a remnant
of a great crystal
hardened in the magma of the Earth.

And small though I be,
washed and beaten,
stepped on and wind-tossed,
my facets shine.

And though you are worn,
and tiny,
drowned out,
and held down,
the angling sun unites us
And we sparkle,
together.

The Worried Writer

blur-carry-dark-escalator-417014 (1)You know when it’s late at night and you’re trying to sleep, but you can’t stop worrying? Your mind is bent on chewing up scenario after scenario and venturing into territory that you berate yourself for even entertaining. What kind of twisted person even thinks of such terrible outcomes?! That’s not even likely to happen! Yet there you are, tossing and turning — a slave to your own imagination.

Obviously something in your brain is broken, or at least deviant. You must have a mental disorder. You curse your luck and wish you never had to go through this again. But is it a curse or blessing? If you, like I did recently, experience a blip where this worry function goes missing, you may realize it had a purpose after all.

Take for example, the day worry was shut off for me. The day I stood at the bottom of the escalator with my 5-year-old twins. They wanted to try the “magic stairs.” Certainly if this was one of those late night worry sessions, I would have imagined all sorts of disasters! But this time, I did not picture my kids falling backwards down the escalator. I didn’t picture us being slowly devoured by the mechanism. I even didn’t picture one kid sailing to the top out of my sight (Certain to be snatched by a stranger!) while the other screamed and threw a fit at the bottom. Well friends, some of this actually happened.

I made the oh-so-intelligent decision to set my purse down to have both hands free. I set Twin 1 on the escalator, then set Twin 2 on the following stair. I thought I would pick up my purse and hop on behind them, but Twin 2 held onto my hand because he was scared. Of course he was, why didn’t I think he would need to hold my hand?! As Twin 1 sailed upward with a huge smile on her face, I struggled to reach my purse AND hold the hand of Twin 2 who was stepping down instead of up. “Let go for a second,” I asked. Instead of letting go of my hand, he fell backwards and I rushed forward. Now, I’m awkwardly holding him and the two of us are coasting up to the top while my purse sits at the bottom with a gathering of onlookers. Not my finest moment. 

Now, keep in mind I’m just a regular person, interpreting my own experience, but I feel when your mind runs through many scenarios unchecked, it might be an overactive version of something you need very much. Believe it or not, you can predict the future sometimes! I certainly could have used a little predictive worrying at my escalator debacle. 

Later that night, while I was pondering my failings as a parent, I thought more about this. I ALWAYS worried. Are all writers also worriers? Hmm. Story is almost like an extended — what if X happened — worry session. It’s where you explore all options. Was this part of the mechanism that helps me write? 

If you’re wondering how it worked out on the escalator, Twin 1 waited patiently (thrilled at her triumph) at the top of the escalator as I went up with sobbing Twin 2, and a kind woman at the bottom of the escalator brought up my purse. Several people informed me where the elevator was. Thank you all very much. 

Are YOU a worrier? Are you a writer? Do you think there might be a connection? Share your opinions below.

Oops! Point-of-View Mistakes

blur-close-up-crumpled-963048

Photo by Steve Johnson

I know what you’re thinking … It seems nearly impossible to make a error in your manuscript with point of view (POV). I mean, first person, third person … how many people start off in the manuscript saying, “I this and that” and ending up saying, “She this and that?”

Pish! Easy peasy, piece of cake. Case closed, I don’t need to read any further.

That’s what I thought until a recent mistake showed me it’s easier than you think to make a POV error, and it might not be as obvious as the prior example. Here’s what I did wrong. Continue reading

Halloweensie 2018 Entry!

It’s here! One of my favorite new Halloween traditions: Susanna Leonard Hills’s Halloweensie Contest!

There’s still time to enter! The contest closes at 11:59pm on Halloween. Details here. Good luck to all — especially my wonderful critique partners!

And now, my entry …. coming in at 97 words (and after about 97 candy corns):

The Misunderstood Ghost
By Karen LaSalvia

As a ghost, trick-or-treaters often misunderstand me.
When I smile …
“Help! It wants to swallow me!”
When I hug …
“Ahhh! It’s sliming me!”
And when I say, “Hi, I’m Hauntington,” they hear, “Howwlll Haunnnntttt!”
I give them the heebie-sheebie shivers.
But then …
“Meow. Hi, Hauntington.”
“You understand me?!”
“I speak three languages, including Ghost.”
“Vanishing vapors! But why are you hiding in a cauldron?”
“Kids say I’m a bad-luck black cat. Oh no, I’m seen!”
“Stand back. I got this!”
I smile, hug, and speak to each trick-or-treater.
“You scared them with kindness!”
She totally understands me.