Writing Inspiration

I'm not consistent with keeping a journal.  Honestly, I have several different journals filled with only 2 or 3 pages of writing.  All of my stories are based on some part of a memory or experience things like playing with my siblings or the yearly county fair.  Some of my dearest memories include my Grandma and Grandpa.  In a way, this is a special way for me to feel close to them now they have passed.  I get to honor them and reflect on sweet times shared together.  I may not keep a journal but I enjoy creating stories based on memories.

A few weeks ago, my family and I traveled to the area where I was born and raised in Eastern Utah.  Things have changed dramatically in the 11 years since I lived there.  My great grandparent's home, where I grew up, has now been torn down.  This sleepy town that I was once so nervous to leave, doesn't feel like home anymore.  Maybe it is because I lost a piece of my heart when a JiffyLube was built on top of my roots.

My kiddos were restless and tired of being in car seats, so we made a quick pitstop to give them (along with husband and me) a little break.  We ended up near fairgrounds a few towns away.  This is the same place every year my siblings and I would participate in the yearly county fair.  We raised, fed, trained, and then showed and sold pigs or steers.  The memories flooded back as we drove around the pens and stalls.  I couldn't believe how it looks exactly like I remember, yet so different. In my mind, everything was taller, larger, and grander.  Maybe because to a then scrawny, scared 8-year old, everything looks bigger.

I wish I would have taken some pictures.  At the time, I was so overcome with memories and stories to tell my family it didn't even occur to me that maybe one day, this too will be torn down.  A few months back, I started a rough draft of a story about the county fair.  This unexpected pitstop has given me the motivation to finish the story.

To memories and pitstops!

KAPOW! BOOM! THUNK!

I'm trying to add more sounds within the text of my picture books.  Sounds add another layer to the story and are something that can't be shown in the illustrations.  It has been a lot of fun and sometimes downright frustrating.  How do you describe an explosion?  A breaking dish?  A flat tire?  I find myself whispering different sound effects to try to figure out what works best.  I may have lost my mind.  Zoooop!  Poof!

I was finishing up critiques before my group meets tomorrow when I had a complete brain fart.  I was trying to describe a chicken sound.  Yes, I know the sound a chicken makes.  Why can I not think how to spell it?  Bauk? Buk? Buuoook? bhuuk? Bok?  I'm getting desperate... cluck, cluck.  Forget it,  (insert chicken sound here).  Nailed it.  Kachow!

Ruby Car

Ruby was the name of my great grandmother's 1964 Pontiac Tempest.  This car parked in the garage next to old textbooks and a deep freeze. The grocery store, bank, and church were all within a mile of home.  Ruby and great granny never went far. However, when all the grandkids piles inside we used our imagination to drive Ruby car to far away places, often finding ourselves in a bit of a predicament. Here is to Ruby car and new adventures.  Also, when you marry a handsome boy with a common last name, you have to get creative!