Tuesday, September 24, 2013

3 O'clock Snack


Amber crossed her arms and leaned back in her seat as she chewed on her second to last piece of Hubba Bubba gum. Trying to smack her lips loud enough to tune out the joyful sounds of her classmates packing up their book bags for the day, Amber watched Ellen and Melanie out of the corner of her eye. It wasn’t difficult for her to hear their conversation from the library table that she was sitting at.

“I can’t wait to go home, my mom said she was going to make brownies!” Ellen said.
“Oh, that sounds so good right now!” Melanie said as she slung her pink-sequined book bag over her shoulder. “I’m going to ask my mom to make some when I get home!”

Amber narrowed her eyebrows as she eavesdropped on Ellen and Melanie. She watched them walk past her, through the library, down the hallway, and around the corner until they were gone. How did they get their hair so shiny? Amber wondered. It made her think of puppies. Golden retriever puppies. With blonde and fluffy fur. So soft looking that you just have to touch. Touching her own hair, Amber sighed. Her hair felt mangy. If I was a puppy, I would be a mutt, Amber thought.

Holding her stomach, Amber thought about the brownies that Ellen and Melanie were going to eat once they got home. I bet their moms buy Betty Crocker mix. Amber thought. Not the off-brand stuff. She wondered if they got the milk chocolate or dark chocolate brownies. She hoped milk chocolate. Or maybe they bought the chocolate chunk kind. She also imagined Ellen and Melanie’s moms frosting their brownies, and letting them lick the spatulas once they were done.

Looking at the digital clock on the librarian’s desk off to her right, Amber held her stomach as it made a loud growling noise. At least now there wasn’t anybody around to hear. It was 3:07. Where was her tutor?

Two days ago, Amber had tried to make pizza rolls when she got home. She had been so hungry during school that the people sitting next to her were turning around, laughing and pointing. They even raised their hands and told the teacher. Ms. Putnam, listen to Amber’s stomach!
~
She had done everything that the box had said. She set the oven to 425 degrees. She had arranged the rolls 1 inch apart on an oven tray. She had even used her ruler from school to make sure she got exactly an inch. But once she put them in the oven, she forgot to turn the timer on. They were only supposed to be in the oven for 10 minutes. She was going to stand by the oven and watch them sizzle and bake, but just as she shut the oven door, she heard a dog bark outside. It sounded like it was standing on the porch, barking at the screen door. Hoping that it was a stray, Amber got excited and ran to the door. It was a big black lab, and it started jumping once it saw Amber at the door. She chased him around the yard and down the street, laughing, feeling the wind whip at her hair as she tried to catch the dog. Once she realized she couldn’t catch him, she ran back to the yard and grabbed a stick. This seemed to interest the black lab, who came bounding back to her. They played fetch for a while, and Amber marveled at how good he was at it. That was when she thought to look around his neck for a collar. She whistled at him to come to her. But he wouldn’t come. He was watching a rabbit across the street with his ears perked up. She was about to whistle at him again when she heard the smoke detector go off.
~

Amber watched her tutor as she came around the corner and walked down the hallway towards her. She started to chew her Hubba Bubba gum quicker and noticed that it had already lost its taste.

“How was high school today, Mother Mary?” said Amber as her tutor sat down in the seat across from her.

“Don’t call me that you little twerp.” said Mary as she flipped her hair across her shoulder and straightened out her tight t-shirt that had been working its way up her mid-section.

“That’s right, I can’t call you that because Mother Mary was a virgin.”

“I said shut up, you little brat!” said Mary. She flipped her hair again and crossed her right leg over her left. “Where’s your homework?”

“It’s all up here.” said Amber, pointing at her forehead.

“You know, I don’t have to help you.” said Mary, glancing at the clock on the librarian’s desk. It was 3:14. “We only have 15 minutes anyway.”

“You do too.” said Amber. “If you don’t help me, you don’t get volunteer hours, and then you won’t get confirmed. And it’s 16 minutes. You’re not very good at math, I don’t think I want you helping me anyway.”

Mary put her hand on her forehead and sighed. Amber looked at her nails. They were long and sparkly. Amber’s stomach growled. Mary looked up without taking her head out of her hand.

“Was that your stomach?” she said, her face all scrunched up.

“Yeah, so?”

“Jesus, why don’t you eat something?” Mary said, sitting back up in her seat and looking back at the clock. 3:15.

“My mom never makes me anything. She never makes me brownies like other moms.”

Mary shook her head and sighed. “Well, maybe if you weren’t such a brat she would make you brownies.

Amber popped a bubble with her Hubba Bubba gum. She doubted it.

~

The smoke detector was going off and the black lab had run away. Amber burst inside, letting the screen door slam behind her, hoping the alarm hadn’t woken her mom up. But as she ran into the kitchen, she saw her mom with a dirty dish towel, waving her hand at the smoke as she put the tray of black pizza rolls on the stovetop.

“God, Amber- what the fuck is your problem?” she said as she threw the dish towel on the counter.

“I was hungry.” said Amber. She wondered if the black lab would ever come back. She wondered if it had a collar. It probably did, but she could dream that it didn’t.

“Well set a goddamn timer next time.”

Amber looked at her mother. Her jeans were the smallest size you could buy at the store and they were still falling off of her waist. Her white tank top wasn’t white anymore, and there were holes and cigarette burns everywhere on her shirt. Amber watched as her mother opened cupboards, looking for her pack of cigarettes.

“Wasn’t the pizza roll smoke enough for you?”

“Dammit Amber, don’t you be a smart-ass. I’m your mother.”

“Pretty shitty one, if you ask me.”

Her mom didn’t hear her. She had found a cigarette and was lighting it. She took a long drag and blew the smoke into the kitchen. Amber watched the cigarette smoke as it blended in with the pizza roll smoke. She coughed and held her nose. It made an awful smell.

“Good night, Amber. Don’t stay up too late.”

Amber watched her mother walk into her bedroom and shut the door. Amber looked at the clock on the stove. It was 4:13.

~

Mary left at 3:18. Her phone had buzzed and she had laughed. Then she got up and left. Amber figured that meant she could go home too.

As she walked home, Amber watched for the black lab. She wanted to play fetch again and she wanted to see if she could teach him any new tricks. But she didn’t find him. She spit out her Hubba Bubba gum in the grass as she walked up to the front door of her house. She let the screen door slam behind her, knowing that it wouldn’t wake up her mom. She was still surprised that the smoke detector had woken her up.

Amber started opening up cupboards in the kitchen. She threw boxes on the floor that felt empty. Cheerios boxes, Club cracker boxes, Fruit Roll-Up boxes. She found a bag of blueberry muffin mix. Pushing the blueberry muffin mix aside, she saw a red box. She jumped up a little to reach it. Chocolate Brownie Mix. It wasn’t Betty Crocker, but at this point, Amber didn’t care. She got out a mixing bowl, a spoon, and a pan to put the brownie batter in. She mixed up the ingredients and turned on the oven. She made sure to set the timer. This time she was being careful. But as Amber watched her brownies, she couldn’t help but eye the smoke detector. With each second that the brownies baked, she felt more anxious. She couldn’t take it anymore. She didn’t want her mom to wake up. She didn’t want her to ruin her brownies. So Amber took her last piece of Hubba Bubba chewing gum out of her pocket. She unwrapped it and started to chew. She only chewed for a minute. It still had a lot of flavor. She grabbed a chair and set it in front of the counter. Slowly climbing onto the counter while holding the cupboard for support, Amber stuck her last piece of Hubba Bubba gum over the sensor on the smoke detector. She just wanted to eat her brownies in peace.

Saturday, August 31, 2013

Author Spotlight: Cliff Roberts


About Cliff 

Cliff Roberts grew up in suburban Detroit and has since lived in several different states. From Maine to California to Texas to Florida and Tennessee, Cliff has experienced a wide spectrum of American life. He has had as many different careers as places lived. He has been an employee, business owner, award-winning salesman in two fields, a politician, and now an author. For a short time, Cliff had the privilege to serve as the Township Supervisor/Safety Director in his adopted hometown in Michigan, where he had a successful career running a local refuse company. He was elected to the post in the early '90s. 

Cliff is married to his sweetheart, Donna, and has two daughters and six grandchildren. When he isn’t writing, he is busy exploring the mountains or painting one-of-a-kind artwork or taking spectacular landscape photos which he sells along with his artwork at local flea markets and fairs.

About Nevwas's Gold 

With a knack for sticking his nose where it doesn't belong, amateur crime-fighter and disabled writer, Nate Nevwas finds himself embroiled in crimes which he has to solve in order to save himself. While trying to help two damsels in distress, Nate Nevwas has his life threatened, is attacked by hired killers, attacked by a gang of punks who beat  him within an inch of his life, battles with pirates on the high seas, fakes his own death, and  foils a mega-millions treasure heist. The adventure takes Nate from Key West to the Everglades, to the high seas and back again, leaving a trail of dead bodies and ending at a pot full of gold.

Interview with Cliff

You used to be a politician; would you say this has helped your writing career? 

Oh, it has definitely helped my career. I learned about how our government actually works, scary stuff and a lot about what motivates many of our political leaders. It’s not civic duty. I touch on those experiences in all of my books. As I continue writing I have lots of stories revolving around my short political career that I will be including in my books. But what I really learned was how to handle myself in public and how to negotiate which not only can be incorporated into stories but helps when I have to deal with publishers and their expectations.

Who are some of your favorite authors?
My writing is influenced by a number of writers. My favorites are Tom Clancy, James Patterson-when he himself writes the story, Clive Cussler- the same applies, Elmore Leonard, Vince Flynn for action, Harlin Coben, John Grisham, Dean Knootz, David Baldacci, Robert Parker, Sue Grafton, and Sandra Brown. I think it’s true if you’re going to write you had better be a big reader. I learned what I know about writing by reading.

Do you listen to music or watch TV while you write?

I don’t specifically have the TV or radio on but my family will have either one or both on in the other room and I do my best to block the sound out. At times I wear ear plugs to reduce the household noise. At other times I may turn on the TV to have some sound in the house because the silence can be deafening and thus distracting.

In what formats are your books available? Are you intending to expand these?

Currently, my books are available in E-book and paperback which can be found on Amazon and CreateSpace. I hope to eventfully offer hardcover as well, but the marketplace is leaning towards E-books which may make hardcover books vanity and not economically viable in the future. 

Here is a link to Cliff's Amazon page!

What advice would you give to new writers?
Write, write, write and write some more. Practice your skill over and over and over. Writing is like anything else, you have to practice at it to be good.

Connect with Cliff



Find Cliff on Google+

If you are interested in being featured for an Author Spotlight, please contact me at hebbelnl@uni.edu

Thursday, August 29, 2013

Flash Fiction

This is a piece I wrote for my fiction workshop class. The assignment was to write a flash fiction story in 100 words or less using elements the class found in the "short short" stories of Tom Hazuka. The elements were: wartime setting, use of dialogue to advance the plot, and book-ending.

Summer


The water in the bathtub was black. The hair-dryer was droning and the radio was blaring. There was a knock at the door.
"What?" Madeline yelled as she turned off the dryer and radio.
"I want to take a picture for Dad."
"Not now."
"Your father has been in Iraq for seven months and you're saying I can't take a picture of his daughter to send him?"
Madeline opened the door. Her mother gasped.
"Not now." her mother finally said.
Madeline shut the door. She sat down and looked at the black water in the bathtub.

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

Lemonade and Luck


Like most kids, my sister and I used to set up lemonade stands every summer. My Dad would mix up the lemonade, set up the table on the driveway, and bring out the boombox. My sister and I would write with marker on a piece of cardboard "Lemonade 25 cents." Then, we would sit down in our lawn chairs and wait. While lounging in the sunlight and listening to neighbors mowing their lawns, we would dream of having a successful lemonade stand. We would imagine people flocking to our stand, begging us for more lemonade, while Dad would be in the kitchen pouring and mixing as fast as he could. We saw ourselves making money- and lots of it. We imagined ourselves going to the mall and buying ice cream cones, clothes, and anything else we wanted.

Back then, I never understood why my dreams never became reality. As an adult, I know why.

As a child, I didn't understand the saying, "Location, location, location." My family lived on a court. Obviously not a good place to have a lemonade stand.

I also didn't understand the importance of having an original product. My sister and I could have sold any drink or food that we wanted- we could have simply sold pink lemonade, but we had to sell plain lemonade and just lemonade; and with other kids selling the same thing down the street, we never had a chance.

This summer, I was driving into Keystone, South Dakota after work and passed a group of kids with a lemonade stand. As I drove by, I thought about how lucky they were. They were on the main road of Keystone, in a location where hundreds of tourists drive past every day to see Mt. Rushmore.

I am sad to admit, I actually felt jealous of those kids as I drove by. If they had their lemonade stand multiple days during the summer, they could have easily made hundreds of dollars- whereas my sister and I never had a chance to make anymore than five dollars from neighbors who pitied us. All these kids had over my sister and I was luck.

Let's face it- some writers are lucky. Some are born to Stephen King. Others are born rich. The rest of us have no luck. We can either whine about it or try to create our own.

I could have moved my lemonade stand. There was an empty lot next to my house on the main road where we could have set up. My sister and I could have been more original. We could have sold regular and pink lemonade with Mom's chocolate chip cookies. We also could have been more persistent. My sister and I would usually sit at our stand for about two hours until we got tired and decided we wanted to sit in the air-conditioning and watch Spongebob instead. Writers, let's learn something from this. Stop whining, turn off your TV, and move your lemonade stand someplace else.

Saturday, August 10, 2013

Liebster Blog Award

Thank you to Ashwin Kumar for nominating me for the Liebster Blog Award. This award is for up and coming blogs with less than 200 followers. "Liebster" is the German word for "favorite"...which means that Diary of Laura is one of Ashwin's favorite blogs! I am so happy to have such a satisfied and dedicated reader. Here is a link to Ashwin's Blog!



Now that I have been nominated for this award, there are a few fun things that I get to do!  

Rules for Nominees 

1. Post 11 facts about yourself.
2. Answer the 11 questions posted by the person who nominated you.
3. Nominate 5 other bloggers with less than 200 followers for the award.
4. Create 11 new questions for your nominees.
5. Go to each bloggers site and let them know about the award.
6. Thank the person who nominated you and link back to his/her blog.

I will start off by answering Ashwin's questions for me!

1. How many languages do you speak?
Just one; English. I would really like to learn Italian. 
2. What is your favorite movie?
The Dark Knight Rises.
3. What is your greatest achievement so far?
Getting my flash fiction story "Dr. James M. White" published.
4. What is your favorite book? Explain why it is your favorite.
As of right now, my favorite book is 1984 because it had a very strong emotional effect on me. 
5. How would you react to someone constantly irritating you?
I would either just let it bother me or completely blow up at them; nothing in between.
6. Explain the best moment you have experienced so far in your life. 
Playing in a symphony is one of the best life experiences I have ever had. 
7. What do you do with your leisure time?
I have to admit I sleep a lot, but I also like writing, reading, practicing my violin and watching TV. I also enjoy spending time at coffee shops and bookstores. 
8. Would you rather spend 10 days on an Antarctic cruise expedition or a 12 day European tour?
As adventurous as an Antarctic cruise sounds, I would rather do a European tour because I have always wanted to go to Europe.
9. What is your favorite TV show?
I love Seth Macfarlane's humor, so my favorite shows are Family Guy, American Dad and The Cleveland Show. I have also been on a Futurama kick lately.
10. What is your favorite color and why?
Orange. My birthday is in September so it reminds me of the leaves in Fall and of monarch butterflies. 
11. How many days a week do you exercise?
Lately? Zero. 

Here are 11 totally random facts about myself! 

1. I don't like milk.  
2. I have a book autographed by Elmore Leonard. 
3. I am going to Brazil with the Northern Iowa Symphony Orchestra in 2014.
4. I have a beta fish named Moose. 
5. I have never needed braces or retainers for my teeth. 
6. I prefer coffee over tea.
7. I drink way too much pop. 
8. I want to live in Denver, Colorado when I am done with school. 
9. I still tie my shoes starting with bunny ears. 
10. My favorite lotion scent is vanilla.
11. My favorite animals are dogs, elephants and buffaloes. 

Here are 11 questions for my nominees!

1. What is your favorite non-alcoholic drink?
2. What is your favorite magazine?
3. Are you a dog or cat person?
4. What are your hobbies?
5. What do you do for a living?
6. What is your favorite genre of music?
7. What is your favorite board game?
8. How many siblings do you have?
9. Do you prefer showers or baths?
10. What is your favorite way to exercise?
11. What is your favorite restaurant? 

My nominees for the Liebster Blog Award are:

Wednesday, August 7, 2013

Inspiration in Artwork

By: Aaron Van Fossen

Aaron Van Fossen is an author, illustrator, musician, soccer goalie, graphic designer, and all-around artist. He has been published by Vision Forum magazine, and in 2008 won the David Melton “Written and Illustrated By” national competition by Landmark Books. Currently, he is studying Graphic Design at the University of Northern Iowa. When Aaron is not writing or making art, you might find him attacking the road on his bike, making music, chugging chocolate milk, singing Disney songs (wait… what was that?), blowing bubbles from the dish soap bottle, lifting at the gym or playing sports. 

Great! You've grabbed a pen, your journal is open and your laptop is fully charged. Hours have been spent in the library, books have been read and you have opinions on all of them, good and bad.

Now you have decided that you want to write a story.

But, the screen is blank. You now understand how that little “curser” received its name as it teases you with its blinking…blinking…blinking… and you cry out, “I can’t think of anything to write!”

You need some ideas. How do you find them?

Something that has helped me tremendously with my writing over the years is my love of art. It isn't just looking at the artwork that’s inspiring. It’s the story-sparking that the artwork encourages if you engage your senses and ask questions.

The five senses are exciting starting points for story ideas because our senses bring back such strong memories. Something as simple as a cool breeze billowing through an open window could remind you of that night on the beach when you were ten… It was early evening and you put on a sweatshirt because the breeze rippling the ocean sent shivers down your arms. It was too cold to swim, so your dad got out a Frisbee and tossed it to you. No matter how hard you tried, the ocean breeze caught the disk and sent it twirling in a crazy arch so that it landed far from your aims. You were worried he’d be frustrated, but both of you laughed so hard your sides hurt.

See what I mean?

Artwork is always teeming with images that can stimulate the senses. What can you (or the characters in a painting, if there are any,) see? An ancient forest? The ocean at sunset? A playground? A group of horsemen? What can the characters hear? What can they smell? How do you feel as you look at the artwork? Hot? Playful? Soaked? Tired? Vertigo? Why?

This is “ The Herring Net” by Winslow Homer. My short story "Prout’s Neck" was inspired by this painting, and the opening sentences draw from its mood and the five senses:

The pale moon of late spring cast its ghostly light down upon the face of the dark waters, touching each wind-driven wave-top with flecks of cold silver. Sighing breakers crashed endlessly upon the beach, weary after their journey from the corners of the earth. Above the tideline, whirling gales chased dry sand against the rocks, forcing each particle to sing in the piercing hymn that blended with the sounds of the mighty deeps.

A small craft bobbed amidst it all, looking everything but in control as she rose and fell at the whim of the waters. Two figures sat inside, looking far too large a cargo for the vessel which carried them. Without any warning, rain suddenly began to pour, the heavy drops plummeting into the bay like tiny comets. Only one manned the paddles, just able to direct the boat as the churning waters propelled her forward.

Another thing artwork can do is prompt questions. Have you ever noticed how great kids are at asking questions? They are so good at it that many of us cringe when we feel that all-too-familiar tug on our shirtsleeves. During the summer, I work at a YMCA summer camp and these are just a few of the questions I’ve received from kids over the weeks: How does grass grow? Do teachers go to the bathroom? Is it ok to stomp on bugs? What do you do if you find a bat clinging to the basement wall? Do worms sleep? What makes wind? Why do people plant daffodils but pull up dandelions when they’re both yellow flowers? How many snowflakes does it take to make a snowball?

I think writers can learn a lot from kids. Homer’s “The Herring Net” has plenty of unanswered questions: Who are the two characters in the boat? What are their names? What are they doing? How long have they been out in the rain? Where do they live? Where are they going? Is this scene the beginning of the story... somewhere in the middle... or the climax?

Let your imagination run wild! Next time you see a piece of artwork, think of it as a still-shot from a movie. Let the mood of the painting ignite your senses, ask a few questions, and soon you will be finding that big idea you have been so desperately looking for.