Short Story: A New List of Resolutions
Writing Prompt: Write a story in the form of a list of New Year’s resolutions. Reason to read this: My actual Amazon impulse buys make an appearance.
Short Stories
Short Story: How to Survive the Wild
A few years ago, I wrote a book called Turtle Treasure as my NaNoWriMo novel. I never published it, but it was a fun and non-serious novel about adventure in the face of deep-seated fears. This is an adapted excerpt from that novel, and it recently won a prize in a short story contest.
Short Story: Order Up
Ruby looked up, feeling her face grow hot as Brayden looked down at her, his face relaxed into that same irresistible smile he’d shoot at her in the hallways at school, the one he shot at everyone, the one that made her want to hide behind lockers or stay in the girls bathroom for all of lunch.
Short Story: No One Does Therapy Like a Dog
Buoy jumped out of the truck, a blur of reddish blonde fur as he raced in my direction. I dropped to my knees as the golden retriever reached me. He jumped around, his tail wagging against all my tomatoes as he soaked up my love.
My contest winning submission: Big Trees
This short story is one I entered in “Wish You Were Here,” a Redwood Writers contest about travel experiences. And guess what. I won first place! Read it here.
Short Story: The Tree Bed
Excerpt from my current novel in progress, For the Birds. While Meadow freshened up in the bathroom, I did a quick dust job of the canopy of branches over the bed, then changed the sheets. By the time she came out, the bed was turned down, the room bathed in the soft glow of our …
Short Story: The Yellow Dress
“Edison McIntyre,” he said in his thick accent, affecting my heartbeat as he clasped my hand in his. The amused squint of his eyes didn’t help, our secret history flowing between us, unbeknownst to Mr. Finnigan. “Charles has told me all about you,” Sonny continued. “I look forward to us working together.” …
Short Story: My Mother’s Garden
The bees were already at work on the lavender bushes, despite the early hour, and I watered the base of the billowing plants to avoid soaking their fuzzy bodies.
“You’re doing a wonderful job,” I cheered them on, just like Mom used to do. She talked to the bees, the birds, and the plants the same way she’d talk to a child, asking them about their day and offering encouragement. When I was young, I swore they answered her. …
Feeling French
A true tale of a recent lunch break encounter.
Short Story: Being Super
Have you ever wondered what it would feel like to fly? Here’s a short story about it.