Mellow Yellow Monday

Old yellow pine door with knob
Son House, The Hambidge Center, Rabun Gap, Georgia

Continuing Monday Discovery with Mellow Yellow Monday. Weekly prompts available on the website.

At a Loss for Words: June 12

For today’s At a Loss for Words feature, here’s a beachy slideshow!

Can you tell I’m missing the beach? Usually, my husband and I visit our favorite spot early in the summer, but circumstances prevented it this year. We still have hopes, but not before August, and August marks the start of hurricane season, so making reservations then is iffy.

Shall we be spontaneous? Shall we live dangerously?

As I review these photos of the place we love, I think maybe so. You’ll notice that the writing materials and books always, always go along.

If one of these photos sparks your creativity—a scrap, a memory, a poem or story—please share in the comments or leave me a link. Or tell me, what, or where,  your favorite escape is. What kind of atmosphere gets your creative juices flowing? 

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E. B. (Erin) Pike at Writerlious has tagged me for the Lucky 7 Meme Challenge. Thanks, Erin!

Now it’s my turn to post from a work-in-progress and tag seven more writers to do the same.

The rules:

  • Go to page 77 of your current WIP manuscript.
  • Go to line 7.
  • Copy down the next 7 lines – sentences or paragraphs – and post them as they’re written. No cheating!
  • Tag 7 authors.
  • Let each and every one of them know.

Here are seven lines from Spirit Lamp, a work of literary historical fiction set during WWI in rural Mississippi. The novel is complete, and I just finished making a tough revision pass through it. Now it’s on to considering my readers’ responses and composing the dreaded query letter!

In these lines the main character is remembering going hunting with her father. They  begin in mid-sentence. She walks into the woods, following her father’s lantern:

. . . dizzying arc a few feet in front of her, but she had learned long ago to step where he stepped. Now she knew the way as well as he. When they got to the woods, he snuffed the lantern out and made his way silently among the trees. Now and then he stopped and held out his arm, a signal to Leona to be still. It meant he had stopped to listen, or he had heard or sensed movement.

She could see him in the graying light. He pointed to the base of a pine tree and motioned for her to sit. He moved twenty yards away and sat beneath another tree. She could just make him out, so still, his shape darker than the dark around him. The tree trunk became part of the . . .

Now for the tags, writers! I hope you’ll accept. Please follow the rules above, post your WIP lines, and pass the challenge on. Feel free to post here in a comment, too. As E. B. says, it’s a great way for us to share bits of our works-in-progress.

First, here’s to my fellow literary fiction peeps over at the Facebook MNINB group:

And to round out the seven . . .

I’d love to add more, but I’ll leave that to these fine folks.

 Thanks again, Erin, for the tag. This was fun!