Tag Archives: fiction

Time to Find the Quiet Place


Do your days ever start like this?

Coffee in hand, you open your writing computer and plop it onto the dining room table, excited to have this time to create, full of ideas you want to get down. You sit down and sip your coffee.

Your teenager’s alarm goes off. You tilt your head, glance at the stairway leading up to the bedrooms, type a little more, glare at the stairway, type another sentence, sigh heavily and lift yourself up to go wake up your daughter. Ten minutes later, after light-switch flicking, toe tickling and finally, threats to inflict bodily harm, you’re back at the computer, trying to remember what you were doing before you left. The ideas pop back into place and for five blessed minutes, your fingers fly again. Until you notice someone standing at the edge of your vision.

“Hi, hon. Sorry to bother you. But I can’t find those insurance forms we talked about last night. I need to turn them in today. Do you know where they are?”

Lifting yourself up, you cross the family room, sigh heavily and open the drawer of the end table your husband is standing next to, the one where you ALWAYS keep pending paperwork, and hand him the forms on the top of the stack. He kisses your cheek and turns to go into the kitchen to fill his travel mug with the coffee you made this morning.

You return to your dining room table and computer, realize your own coffee has gone cold, travel to the kitchen for a refill, receive a “bye hon. I’ll be late tonight” and another peck, then watch your teenage daughter fly into the kitchen, smelling like a perfume sample and looking like a make-up model with her pajamas still. She grabs a banana and retreats back upstairs to finish her morning ministrations.

Back at the computer, you sigh heavily and start again. Peck, peck, peck. Your barely notice when your daughter, now fully clothed, runs through the family then dining room with backpack in tow and somehow manages to kiss the top of your head as she whisks out the garage door. You’re going strong now, the rhythm of your fingers matching the pace of your thoughts. Until you notice someone standing at the edge of your vision. Or rather, sitting on her haunches, a look of hunger and desperation in her soulful eyes. She whimpers once and you sigh heavily, lift yourself up to go feed the dog, then let her out into the back yard, knowing she’d rather have a walk. Not until your writing hour is up! Those are your self-imposed rules.

While the dog is relieving herself, you’re working on that second paragraph you started. A hungry cat jumps into your lap, making you regret you didn’t put the cat food out when you fed the dog. A bark at the door interrupts progress on the second paragraph.  You ignore feline meows and canine bow wows while you finish the second paragraph, but a tail in the face does not help productivity.

You sigh heavily, lift yourself up, feed the cat, let the dog in, rinse out the bowl your husband left on the counter, which leads you to rinse out the glasses and bowl from last night’s movie popcorn night, open the dishwasher and realize it’s full of clean dishes, empty the dishwasher and refill it, retrieve your mug and microwave your now cold coffee then turn back towards your computer. At the kitchen door, you gaze into the living area of your home and see that the rug needs vacuuming, something  you meant to do before you went to bed last night. You notice your daughter has left school books and files on the coffee table, deposited from her book bag on her whirlwind trip to the bus. You gaze towards the window wondering how your daughter ever makes the bus and notice the streaks of dirt you’ve been meaning to get to. You turn back to your kitchen and the family calendar, suddenly wondering if today is the day you scheduled a hair appointment. Nope, that’s tomorrow, but you do have a doctor’s appointment in two hours. Better get started on your paying work a little early today. Maybe they’ll be time to work on that next chapter of your book before you make dinner tonight. And if not? There’s always tomorrow morning’s writing hour.

Sighing heavily, you pick up the dog’s leash. May as well get the dog’s walk out of the way.

And maybe it’s time to write somewhere besides the family room …


Posted by on January 19, 2013 in Uncategorized


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New Beginnings

As 2012 evolves into 2013, my mom and I wear broad smiles of satisfaction. It took two years, but mom’s idea to create a way to bring Danny to life and introduce him to a heroine (Casey) he could fall in love with, came to fruition in the wonderful year of 2012. But the most heartwarming aspect of this process is that it’s just begun. Mom, despite her faltering eyesight, has already written four books centered on the detective in Twist of Fate and by her admittance, each book is better than the last.

With that in mind, I want to start 2013 by giving our blog followers something readers are already requesting (a positive sign the first book is well received!): a peak at book two.

Both Casey and Danny return but in diminished roles. Sam has hired Casey as his personal assistant, and she’s turning out to be a top-notch investigator. Both the detective and his assistant are helped by the fact that Danny went into law enforcement and is now on the Lancaster police force.

The central figures, however, are two new characters:

Jacob is a rich, reclusive author who writes juicy romances despite the fact he’s been holed up in his mansion for many years, safe from the outside pressures of the world and free to dream up his heroes and heroines. He is the product of an overbearing father and a completely submissive mother and has fully compartmentalized his current life. He needs routine and the safety of his own walls to be able to write and he draws his inspiration from a set of beautiful, but austere oriental statues.

Rosalie is an overweight, but voluptuous single woman who has never been able to settle on a career, whose sharp tongue and strong opinions have gotten her into trouble many times and who lives for the pleasure of consuming the written word. She lives with her mother, has only a few friends, and is about to be out of a job (again.)

Jacob is pressured by his own agent into hiring a typist to speed up production of his manuscripts. Rosalie pushes her way into the job and what happens between them is a gradual awakening of desire.

Meanwhile, our four-book hero detective Sam Osborne is hired by Jacob to find out who is stealing Jacob’s oriental statues despite the fact the mansion is locked up tight as a fortress.

The book is entitled: Wretched Fate. But who and what “Wretched” represents is the real meat and mystery of this story.
We’re almost through with the writing and polishing, though the book will go through a long editing/finishing stage. But we’re confident you’ll love Jacob and Rosalie as much as you love Danny and Casey. Stay tuned to this blog to find out more …

Genilee Swope Parente


Posted by on December 28, 2012 in Uncategorized


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