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Why I Write
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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Blog, Blog, Blog
 
Welcome!
 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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Thanks for reading!!
August 21, 2009 at 11:52am August 21, 2009 at 11:52am
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This writing assignment was posted by Acme   for a new group she created. It is my first attempt at writing off-the-cuff, and it was a real challenge not to re-write every sentence like I usually do! (Sometimes...I did  , but only a couple.) Here's the assignment as Acme typed it:
Animal
Animals are great tools for us to borrow characteristics from. Who hasn't heard of a salesman as slippery as an eel, or sneak-thief with cat-like grace.
Prepare
Think of an animal. Write its name in the middle of a sheet of paper. Create a spider graph (pardon the pun), by writing positive and negative descriptive words around the animal. eg:
Horse: (+) loyal, hard-working, noble (-) plodding, docile, mindless
Before any horse lovers find offense, the object here is to try to look at all aspects of the animals nature.
Prepare several animals.
Write
Chose two of your animals and write a flash fiction using their attributes in developing the characters. eg:
CSI: Policeman - Horse
Criminal - Spider
The options are many and varied.
And, here is my work:
Kitten –
Positive: playful, curious, agile, innocent, harmless, trusting, affectionate
Negative: doesn’t know its limits, doesn’t understand danger, destructive, needy, stubborn
Snake –
Positive: graceful, independent, instills fear in others, beautiful, glossy skin
Negative: fragile, may be poisonous, at the mercy of its environment, misunderstood, predatory
Bird –
Positive: able to fly, beautiful singer, free, lithe, social
Negative: nervous, distrustful, loud
Characters: Victoria (snake); A bunch of female gym newbies (kittens)
Victoria entered the gym quickly, pulling hard on the handle of the steamed up glass door and forcing it closed faster than if its mechanism had done the job. Wisps of chestnut hair framing her face had stubbornly escaped the tight ponytail holder at the crown of her head, and they moved in the last gust of frigid air that rushed in before the door sealed out the cold. She rubbed her hands together as she made her way to the wall of cubbies and fished out a pair of running shoes from her bag. Kicking off her snow-dampened tennis shoes, she stowed them and the bag in a cubby, and then sat on the floor to put on the dry ones.
She never wore her running shoes anywhere but inside the gym. Their treads were as clean as the day she bought them, despite the fact that she’d probably clocked 300 treadmill miles in them already. Once they were snuggly laced up, she grabbed the jewel-toned aluminum water bottle from the mesh holder at the end of the stowed bag and headed for the cardio stage.
She passed several of the regulars who appeared engrossed in their workouts, but she felt their eyes on her once she’d walked by. There were only two other people in the cardio area: a gentleman in his early sixties with white iPod earplugs in his ears, which prevented him from hearing how loudly he cleared his throat every thirty seconds, and a white haired woman wearing black wind-breaker pants and a white tee shirt that shouted “I found Jesus at Jefferson First Baptist Church.” The woman smiled broadly at Victoria, who mumbled “good morning” as she moved past her to the farthest treadmill on the platform.
Victoria was halfway through her three-mile workout when the door opened and a gaggle of young women entered the gym. Victoria groaned to herself. The women had begun working out right after the end of the year holidays, so she gave them kudos for making it past the three week mark when most gym newbies gave up on their New Year’s Resolutions. None of them were particularly overweight, but Victoria had overheard several of their loud conversations about their recent pregnancies and escapades as new mothers. It was clear they were determined to support each other and get back into shape.
They certainly played the part. Each donned expensive workout clothes with matching racer back tops with yoga-style pants and bright white sneakers. They called to each other from across the weight training area and laughed with boisterous abandon as if they were in a gym in their own basement. Though Victoria was at the gym every day, and smiled at these women when she caught their eyes, she never felt invited into their conversations.
At the three mile mark, Victoria slowed to a walk to bring her heart rate back down, and she planned her weight training session. She’d done chest and triceps on Monday and legs on Wednesday, so she decided it would be back and biceps today. She took a long swig of water, exited the treadmill program, and wiped the machine down with disinfectant spray. She visited the cubby area to retrieve fingerless gloves from her bag. As she made her way to the area whose perimeter was lined with racks of dumb bells, she passed three of the giggling women standing next to the cable pulley machine. Victoria greeted them, and they stopped talking to stare at her. One woman offered a ‘hey’ but that was it. The blood rushed to Victoria’s face, and she scolded herself for caring that they were cold to her.
Victoria chose two fifteen pound dumb bells and sat on an inclined bench. The cool metal drew her focus to the weight stretching her biceps as she lowered them to either side of her hips and into start position. She let out a deep breath and glanced at herself in the mirror in front of her. Beyond her reflection, she noticed the three women watching her.
Channeling her attention away from the women in the mirror, she fused her elbows to her sides and concentrated on contracting the bicep muscle as she curled the dumb bells up in line with her collar bone. Twisting at the top of the movement, she then lowered the weights fluidly back to start position. As she worked, the room disappeared around her. With each repetition, the muscles in her arm bulged into tight knots of power. The burn began around the seventh rep, and by the fourteenth she was on the cusp of fatigue and failure. She blew two hard puffs of air out and filled her lungs before she began forcing the weights up for the fifteenth repetition. Her breath hissed out with slow release that mingled with sheer will power until she reached the top of the movement.
Placing the weights on the floor, she reached her arms out wide to the sides, making a thumbs-down sign with her hands to increase the stretch to her biceps. She looked into the mirror and gasped.
The three women had attached a straight bar to the bottom cable clip, and placed a Bosu Ball in front of the weight stack. The Bosu Ball is a piece of training equipment, a stability ball that is cut in half and mounted on a flat rubber platform. One of the women mounted the Bosu Ball and her friend handed her the straight bar attached to the cable connecting it to the weight stack. As Victoria watched in horror, the woman began a very wobbly squat atop the ball. Victoria was on her feet and moving toward the women when the girl on the ball attempted a second repetition. Countering the weights and keeping her balance proved to be too much, and as her ankle buckled under her she fell to the side. The crash of the weights falling atop the rest of the stack echoed around the room, turning every head in their direction.
Victoria rushed to the woman as her friends surrounded her. “Oh my God,” Victoria said, “are you hurt?”
The woman rubbed her ankle but insisted she was all right. Victoria introduced herself. “I’ve never seen anyone do squats on a stability ball, and I don’t recommend it at all,” she said gently.
The woman regarded her sheepishly. “You’re in such great shape; you really know what you’re doing in here. I’m just learning. Some teenager was doing this last night so I thought I’d try it.”
“It looks too easy to hurt yourself.” Victoria paused. “If you want, I can show you how to do squats on the Smith machine. It’s a cable machine too, so you get the assistance like you were getting here, but you can rack the bar at any point of motion if you need to. It’s much safer than this thing.” She nudged the Bosu Ball to the side with her toe.
When Victoria left the gym later that morning, it was to a cheerful chorus of “Bye, Victoria!” and “See you next time!” At the door, one of the regulars she’d passed at the outset of her workout said, “Hey, ever think of doing some personal training? A gal in your shape would have no problem getting clients. In fact, they’d probably line up to work with you, behind me, of course!” he added with a grin.
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It's been a while since I wrote anything I'm proud of. Working hard right now so I won't be able to say that anymore! Hope your week's off to a great start. Thinking of you!!! 
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~Noelle 
Where'd Ashy go??)~
