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When I write, I draw on my experiences as a woman with a painful past, a rapturous wife and mother, a world traveler, and a spiritualist. For me, writing is an art form. Like an artist, the work becomes more than I imagined it would be. When I set out to write a story with a particular idea or character in mind, words I cannot claim as my own flow from a magical and mysterious place through me and onto paper. The work takes on a life of its own; it is living art. The process fascinates me, satiates me, and makes my life more meaningful. Please read my stories! If you would like to offer me feedback on my work, please click here and sign up for a free membership: https://heftynicki.Writing.com I hope to see you there!
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*Star*In 2011, my main focus will be on writing a novel. Since I'm a novice novelist, I've decided to come at the project from different angles, exploring the genre and experimenting with its elements. This blog and its offsite sister blog will be my journals where I attack novel-writing one day at a time.

As I was creating my BlogSpot page, the inspiration for the blog solidified in my mind. I named that blog "One Significant Moment at a Time." In essence, I want to use the format as a reminder to walk through my life with my author's eyes open, taking in the details, feeling the emotions of the day. As moments unfold and I feel their affects on me as a person, a woman, a mother, a sister, a member of the world community, I'll let the writer in me talk about it.

Creative Nonfiction is the genre most fitting to describe what I envision accomplishing here, moreso than blogging or journaling. The style is best suited, I feel, for my ambitions as a novelist.

In addition, Friday entries will not be written by me. Instead, I'll turn the keyboard over to one of the characters in my novel. He or she will relate the events of the day as s/he saw them, through the filter of his or her perception.


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If you've read my blog before, and find yourself here again, won't you click this link and check out my BlogSpot?

http://www.nicoleducleroir.blogspot.com

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2011 Reading Goal = 25 Books in 52 Weeks. To see the list of books I've read so far, CLICK HERE  Open in new Window.





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Thanks for reading!!






April 14, 2011 at 9:02am
April 14, 2011 at 9:02am
#722223
Yesterday's post described 'Kindness.' Almost everyone guessed that, or 'karma,' which I think fits too!

Today, my passage involves a lot of emotions. To successfully guess the 'L' emotion/feeling/state of mind, you have to look past the POV (it's not her!) and pay special attention to Jennifer and Jonathon. Ready? Here goes:




“Your table is ready.”

I followed my sister and the hostess. I watched Jennifer command attention as she sauntered; her slim hips swayed exaggeratedly with each step, tracing slow, deliberate figure-eight patterns. Infinity. The hostess handed us oversized, leather-bound menus as we took our seats.

“Bring us a bottle of Chateau Margaux 1982, if you have it,” Jennifer commanded.

I looked at my watch. 11:50 a.m. What the hell, I thought. A drink is probably a good idea...

The hostess said she’d ask our waitress to bring a bottle, but Jennifer had already dismissed her. “So,” Jenn addressed me. “Can you believe we’re planning Mom’s retirement party?”

It was never easy for me to talk with Jennifer about our mother. Although I was barely one year older than her, we hadn’t been reared in the same way. Maybe it was because Mom identified more with Jennifer’s easy laugh or spontaneous personality, or because she just assumed my independent streak needed little nurturing. Whatever it was, Mom’s affections had always been aimed foremost at Jenn. As an adult, I’d rationalized it and made peace with it; but when I was face to face with either of them, I still struggled to ward off the painful memories of being the invisible child.

“Yeah,” I began, “I was thinking of renting out that little Victorian restaurant she loves--” I was interrupted by a man who had stopped at our table.

“Excuse me,” he said to Jenn. “Aren’t you Mandy Goliath?”

My sister smiled salaciously at him. “Why, yes. How sweet of you to recognize me,” she added coyly.

“I’m a big fan of your work.” They hadn’t broken eye contact.

“I’ll bet you are big,” she breathed. I looked at my watch again. He seemed to notice me for the first time.

“Jonathon Shill.” He extended his hand to me.

“Dr. Nadia Beaulieu,” I said, shaking his hand.

“Doctor?” He sounded impressed.

“Oh! She’s not really a doctor,” laughed my sister. “She just teaches at the University of Albany!”

The man had lost interest in me the moment my sister spoke. They conversed a couple more minutes, and then he told her it was a pleasure to meet her. As he was taking his leave, my sister offered him a kiss. He leaned down and she kissed him long on the mouth. Shocked, I glimpsed their groping tongues before looking away.

The waitress arrived, thankfully, with the bottle of wine.


*~*~*~*



Any guesses what 'L' emotion/etc. Jenn and Jon have exhibited? I love reading your comments each day. Keep them coming! *Delight*



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