How many of you have written letters in the past? Thank you notes? Maybe a poem? Emails? Blogs?

I’ve written all of these, and they do take a bit of thought beforehand. Since they are all different types of writing, you would put your personality in the letters to a friend or a thank you note.

How about poetry? Most of you probably know that music with words is poetry. As a youngster, it was always easy to remember words to music, but I never thought of it as poetry.

Have you ever worked for the government or been in the military and had to write or format documents a certain way? Whew! I worked for the government for a while and had to do that.

What do you write? I’d love to hear back from you.

Right now, I have a WIP (work in progress, in author’s jargon). My second book, Natalie’s Cowboy, is almost through my critique group. A critique group, in case that sounds strange to you, is other writers who look over your chapters and add their comments and grammatical corrections that you may have missed.

I’ve been blessed with some good recommendations they have provided. Although, you don’t have to take everything to heart or it may not fit your “voice.” Of course, with all sorts of apps and software programs to assist you in writing good English, those things help too. Please look for my book in the next couple of months. Here’s an excerpt from Natalie’s Cowboy

The main character, Natalie, is in her boutique alone.

She pulled out a drawer and her heart jumped out of her body as a scream escaped her throat. Her fight-or-flight response took over. Flight was the better choice. Rationale and logic fled.

Black, fuzzy critters squiggled across her notepad and pen.

I don’t have anything to use as a weapon. I’m all alone, no one can help me.

Grabbing her keys, she ran out the front door, locked it, and stood on the sidewalk shivering, as she ran her hands up her arms. She shook so bad it was difficult to lock up. Suddenly, she realized she should brush her clothes. What if it or they were on her? At least she was safe.

Coming to her senses, she ran to Jenn’s store. The antique place was empty of customers.

“J-Jenn, can I use your ph-phone?”

“What’s wrong? You don’t look so good.” She came closer to Natalie, her eyes wide with concern.

“Tarantulas! They’re in my store. I hate them.”

“What?”

“Spiders. The big black killer ones!” She was a child again trapped in her adult body.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. They’re revolting. I was bit by one when I was six and terrified for the longest time. I thought I was over it.”

“Let me take a look. They’re common here in New Mexico and in Colorado, but they usually hang out in burrows, not very interested in boutiques. That’s weird.”

Did her friend not understand? She could’ve died. “Jenn, this is serious. I know I saw at least three of them in my countertop drawer.”

***

“Let love and faithfulness never leave you; bind them around your neck, write them on the tablet of your heart. Prov 3 (NIV)