Linna Drehmel(Louisa Albrect)

Monday, December 5, 2011



My worst many bits of awfulness to choose from...I'd have to say the chapter book I wrote when I was eight years old. lol. As that is currently hiding somewhere in my parents house, I'll choose something I actually have and can share. Let's see...again there are many. Mostly poems I wrote in my early teens. I keep everything. Every so often I'll pull a piece of old writing out to see if it can be rescued. This is a poem I've never been able to save. Written twenty-four years ago when I was seventeen:

As the sun silently rises to tenderly caress my face,
It falls upon my closed eyes. To another day I wake
And rise to shuffle blindly to the kitchen to be fed.
I face another volunteer who’s pity, still, I dread.
Others huddle together in automatic comraderie
While more curl into themselves, separate realities.
Who we have been matters little, as from where we have come.
What matters only is today, from dawn to setting sun.
If I wake tomorrow, I’m one of the lucky ones.
As I will not steal, I must beg. Perseverance overrules pride.
I accept the guilt-ridden gifts and ignore all of the snide
Remarks about my laziness, imposing on society.
I would gladly earn my way, but who would hire me?
With my cast off clothes and unwashed hair, they turn me down on sight.
And on the application, for address, what should I write?
Pity and disgust are things to which I must succumb.
Neither valued nor acknowledged, I’m one of the unwanted ones.

I know, it's enough to make your brain bleed. lol.
My best? I haven't written it yet. It'll probably be the last completed piece I write before I die. The best I've written so far? The epilogue for my upcoming mystery novel. I cried buckets when I wrote it, again when I edited and again when I re-read it. I can't share it yet, though, without spoiling the book for the readers. The example I can share is a short from my self-pubbed anthology. At least, it seems to be the one that has had the most emotional response from the readers...

No Cookies Today

The lineup at the grocery store cash-out was a mile long at least. Didn’t that just figure? My hubby’s “to do” list for the weekend was probably twice as long as the line and I’d already been gone two hours on my“quick” run for groceries. The kiddies would have been up from their naps for an hour, at least, by now. If I was lucky, I wouldn’t find him on the front porch, curled in fetal position with a bald spot from pulling his hair out. To say my own nerves were frazzled, would be an understatement.

I swear I’d hit every red light today. Two of the stores I needed to get to were closed. My favorite butcher shop had, apparently, gone bankrupt. I was NOT happy to be stuck in line at the discount grocery store, my arms shaking from the weight of the basket I’d loaded up. I should have grabbed a cart, damn it! Making matters worse, the woman in line, just in front of me, had one child trying to climb the magazine display and a baby in the cart throwing a temper tantrum. My head was going to burst; I just knew it.

I have to give the single, beleaguered cashier credit. She kept the line moving quickly, even managing some friendly chatter with the customers. As her hands scanned barcodes and keyed in coupon codes, with the efficiency of an automaton, she managed to make the standard pleasantries sound positively sincere.

The women with the two mini-demons finally made it to the end of the conveyor belt. She unloaded her groceries slowly, looking as though it took all her energy to do so. Every item hovered above the black strip for a moment, as though she were carefully considering each selection. Formula and baby food went first, then dairy, fruits and vegetables; meats were last. There were no impulse items in her cart. No ice cream, chocolate or dessert items and not one can of cola.
I looked down at my basket guiltily; the package of cookies, two bag of chips and two large bottles of ginger ale suddenly looking extravagant and unnecessary. The older monster in front of me must have followed my gaze.
“Cookies, Mommy! Can we have cookies?” I’m sure people in the parking lot could hear him.
“No, honey; no cookies today.” the mother shushed him, her face turning an indescribable shade of pink. She turned to focus on the L.E.D. display above the cash register, ignoring the resulting tantrum more effectively than anyone else in the store.
When the cashier told her the total, all the color was sucked out of her face in a blink, and back again just as quickly, but darker. She leaned over and spoke softly to the cashier, who discreetly removed three pounds of hamburger from the bagging area, making a few quick keystrokes on her machine. The woman swiped her debit card, staring nervously at the keypad until a single beep sounded. She sighed deeply, moving her cart around to bag her purchases.
The three pounds of ground beef were stacked precariously on the edge of the register as the cashier reached for the in-house phone. With a quick wave of my hand, I caught her attention, reached over and pulled the packages onto the belt with my own purchases. I paid cash to save time and managed to catch the small family at the front door. Without a word between us, I put the three pounds of ground beef, the package of cookies and one bottle of ginger-ale into her cart. The mother nodded her thanks solemnly, but it was the boy who brought me to tears. The look of joy in that kid’s eye, when he saw those cookies go in the cart, made me think of my own babies at home.
I cried all the way back. My two kiddies greeted me at the door like I’d been gone a year.
“Did you get any cookies, Mama?” my daughter asked immediately, her baby brother waiting for my answer eagerly.

Learn To Love Me (upcoming novel) website

Blog - Dreams and Disasters

The Unscheduled Stops (anthology) website

FB fanpage

Google +


Smashwords - The Unscheduled Stops

My Goodreads Author Page
 *credit to the photographer, Dave J. Ford
*The anthology is free until Dec. 31st on Smashwords, kind of a Christmas present for the people who've been supporting me while I write the novel.

1 comment:

  1. Thank you for having me as a guest. I'm loving everyone's confessions!