Summer Stock Sunday - 27 / Poetry Train Monday - 165 - Expecting Someone Altogether Different

My vintage look at summer for Summer Stock Sunday, hosted by Robin at Around the Island.


















When my husband and I first began going out, he took me to the Exhibition in Toronto, known locally as the CNE (Canadian National Exhibition.) At one point we hopped in a photo booth and took the first of a series of summer photo booth pictures.

Once we got married, we moved our previous CNE tradition to our anniversary, and made sure to take a photo booth shot at some point during our day.

This one was taken here in Halifax a few years ago, just after we'd seen a movie. I'm looking forward to a lifetime collection of these.








Last week I mentioned my husband's suggestion that I write a sexy poem. And several of you wondered if I'd written one.

Here it is - it may actually be more romantic than sexy, but who's quibbling?


Expecting Someone Altogether Different


On my day off from work
I threw on my shapeless
Comfy black pants
My slightly-too-big
Cotton top
My grass-stained garden clogs

I shuffled into the car
To pick you up from work
And because the timing
Had been so close
With Mom not knowing
If she'd be back from the store
If you'd have to call a cab
I parked the car
I went in the store

With my day-off-from-work
Unwashed hair
Stained clogs
Shapeless clothing

How many women
I thought to myself
Would enter their
Husband's workplace
Looking like this?

When you saw me
Your eyes lit up
Your smile was not
For the customer before you
And she could tell
She turned to look
I'm sure she was expecting
To see someone
Altogether different
Attached to the smile
To the look
You gave me

© Julia Smith / Aug. 14, 2010

How to participate in the 3:15 Experiment

Starting on the night of July 31/Aug. 1, set your alarm for 3:15 am, wake up, write a poem in the midst of your sleepiness and go back to sleep. Repeat each night for the month of August.

Visit the originators of the project for more information:

Danika Dinsmore

Gwendolyn Alley

For more poetry, Ride the Poetry Train!

Robin says What a wonderful poem - I love the honesty and the sentiment, and above all the love, that shines through it. I love your photobooth tradition too, what a great idea.

Jessica Sieghart says The photo booth shots are an awesome idea! I like the fact that you spend your anniversary in a similar way each year, too. You wrote that poem at 3:15 in the morning? You go girl!!!

Akelamalu Love the romantic poem - that smile says it all!

Weekend Writers Retreat - 20

Here's the latest installment of Scorpius' boyhood back story.

Scorpius is a character from my dark fantasy work in progress. For the first twelve scenes I've posted for the Weekend Writer's Retreat, we've followed him as a seven-year-old, when he outgrew the nursery where he'd been brought up with the other children of the blood.

But when no one from his family came to claim him, Scorpius was released to serve a falcon master as an apprentice.

We rejoin him at age ten.

An incident that took place at the falconer's cottage three years ago has political repercussions that now haunt Scorpius and his master, Richolf.

You can follow the progress of this story arc by clicking on the Works in Progress link just under the blog header.



Scene 20

“Sir,” he said, “were they asking you about that night, when you shut me in the cupboard?”

Work-worn fingers wrapped themselves around Scorpius’ hand. “No more questions,” Richolf said, his voice raw with the screaming he’d done.

Scorpius closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He must do this, even if his master begged him not to. Locking gazes with the falconer, he clasped his master’s hand with both of his own. “Did you think I didn’t see?”

Fear shot through Richolf’s eyes. Scorpius couldn’t stand to see it there.

“Dragon-”

“Yes, I know, I know,” Scorpius said. “The dragon took him off. But before the lord was taken out for the dragon to find, I saw what happened.”

Richolf’s fingers squeezed Scorpius’ hand so hard he nearly cried out. His master shook his head, no. The falconer had been taken to the brink of what a man could stand, and he’d stuck fast to the story about the dragon. How did Scorpius think he could sway his master when burns and blows and crushing tools had not broken him?

“Sir,” he said, raising his voice to speak over the falconer when he objected. “I saw the nobles fighting. I was hidden in the bushes there,” and he gestured toward the spot outside the cottage.

“You must swear!” Richolf said in a hoarse whisper. “The dragon is the only truth!”

“But it isn’t the truth!” Scorpius stood abruptly, unnerved by the shaking in his own voice. He paced across the room, glancing briefly out the window, the evening scene from years ago polluting the sunny afternoon. The nobles tumbling in the dust in their fine clothes, that gurgling sound the dying man had made, the way the sword had plunged into the lord so smoothly.

“The dragon must be the only thing you remember about that night,” Richolf said. Scorpius turned in time to see a tear spill from the corner of his master’s eye. He forgot to breathe. His master’s distress cut through him, forcing him to kneel beside Richolf, his legs too weak to support him.

But he’d promised himself he wouldn’t stop until he got the answers he needed. “Two lords fought outside the door,” he said, ignoring the falconer’s protests. “One of them choked the other. He was wearing a blue doublet. The other lord stabbed the fallen man to be sure he was dead. He was wearing brown.”

“You don’t understand!” Richolf hissed, his voice failing him. The look of terror in his eyes swiped at Scorpius’ heart like crushing talons.

“Why would they do this to you?” Scorpius said, shaking his head at the horror that rose in his chest.

More tears fell down the falconer’s scarred face, weaving through the old healed scars and the scabs of the new ones. “No one must know you were there,” Richolf whispered.

“Who were they?” Scorpius said, sick at the realization that his master was close to breaking, and that it was Scorpius who had gotten farther than his master’s torturers.

“Who do you think they were?” Richolf asked wearily.

“They weren’t just lords. Were they?”

His master shook his head sadly. “What happened that night is only now coming to roost. The ones who fetched me to the estate are the prince’s men.”

“The prince,” Scorpius repeated. Suddenly he wanted to stop Richolf from telling anymore.

The falconer nodded painfully. “The man who sat at this table, the one I hid you from all night in the cupboard. Lord Zorjak. Now Prince Zorjak. There will be more killing before all of this is finished.”

Scorpius nodded, seeing a string of murders looming in his mind. He started when Richolf squeezed his hand once more.

“The dragon is the only thing that happened here,” his master said. “Swear it.”

Scorpius remembered the look on his master’s face when Scorpius had tumbled sleepily from the cupboard’s safety that night. He remembered the polished boots of Lord Zorjak as he crawled under the table back to the cupboard. Lord Zorjak had wept that night at the news of his brother’s death. But his men had tortured his master, and he was now a prince who killed.

“I swear, sir,” Scorpius said for a second time. The first was merely to get his master inside the cottage. This time he trembled as he spoke the words. No one else would ever know that he’d seen the lords in their blue and brown velvets. It was easier to think of them as leathery scaled monstrosities.

© Julia Smith 2010

Alice Audrey says I really, really wanted to know what made these lords so special.

Khaalidah says Julia. I enjoy the clarity of your writing. Even more, I appreciate the exchange of emotions between these two characters.

Janet says Simply wonderful, Julia. The tension in just this conversation is tight, intense! The foreboding oozes from the very words not spoken.

I'm posting at Popculturedivas today - and I've got an early new Scorpius scene posted over there - Scroll down for 5 on Friday

Please join me at Popculturedivas for my latest Scorpius installment.

IMPORTANT NOTE: Popculturedivas was previously experiencing technical difficulties. But now it can be accessed without any of that nasty internet freezing that haunted some readers.


This is week 20 for my serialized fiction - and things are heating up.





10-year-old Scorpius has retrieved his master from the estate, where he was tortured about a violent incident that happened at the falconer's cottage. Will Scorpius be able to get the answers he needs from his master, when the torturers could not?

Join me at Popculturedivas and find out.

5 on Friday - Set 27

Travis at Trav's Thoughts invites everyone to lay down a short set of music that takes their fancies for his 5 on Friday meme.

As many of you know, I'm a certified ballet freak, and my thoughts are never far from this adored-by-me form of creative expression. Often, when I need regrouping and stimulation, ballet is my preferred way to feed my muse.

So this week the Kenneth MacMillan work Elite Syncopations was going through my mind for some reason. And for today's 5 on Friday, here are five ragtime pieces used in the ballet, along with a compilation video of the work itself.



1 - Bethena - A Concert Waltz - Scott Joplin

This is my favorite piece of music from the ballet, and is the piece that led me to today's 5 on Friday.



2 - Hot House Rag - Paul Pratt



3 - Elite Syncopations - Scott Joplin



4 - Sunflower Rag - Scott Joplin



5 - Cataract Rag - Robert Hampton



Jamie says All of the dances and music reminded me of how much I enjoyed the Doctorow book that actually seemed to be written in that meter when read out loud and of course the incredible Broadway Play.

Travis says I love the idea of ballet to ragtime music. It allowed the dancers to show off a little more personality.

Thursday Thirteen - 171 - 13 Reasons It's So Much Fun to Have a Girls' Overnight

Two weekends ago I got together with my high school choir friends. In case you're wondering, that means we've been friends for thirty - that's right, thirty - years. Want to see what we got up to?









Photo by Maureen K



1 - All of us grew up here in Halifax, Nova Scotia. All of us moved away. Then two of us moved back home. Whenever the other two are back to visit family and friends, we try to get together for a Girls' Overnight.

This year we had a staycation urban getaway, right here in downtown Halifax.














2 - We stayed at the Halifax Marriott Harbourfront Hotel, and got a super sweet deal on a King Suite. It was the first time I'd ever stayed in anything so luxurious.










Photo by Dawn D

L to R: Shelley, Maureen, moi

3 - I should have realized something was up when I knocked about three times and no one heard me. Then I realized there was a doorbell - so I pressed it, and there was Dawn.

She let me into a gorgeous room with a king-sized bed, a chair, flat-screen TV, desk, a bathroom off to the side. Very nice, I thought. Wow, this is going to be a fabulous Girls' Overnight.











Photo by Maureen K

L to R: Shelley, Dawn

4 - Dawn nodded to the right. I turned my head.

There was a connecting door, and a vast room opened up beyond. I moved through the door, somewhat disoriented by the unexpected palatial digs.

And squealed, "Maureen!"

She'd been in Nova Scotia several weeks ago for a family celebration, and was not expected for this weekend together. But Shelley had gotten on the phone and coaxed her to grab a flight - and there we all were.










Photo by Maureen K

L to R: Dawn, Shelley, moi

5 - First thing on the agenda - Shelley's signature Lemon Drop Martinis.















Photo by Maureen K


6 - Shelley had to improvise with the wine glasses provided at the in-suite bar, but she's nothing if not an intrepid martini maker.

Serious chillaxin' then got underway.










Photo by Maureen K

L to R: Yours truly, Shelley, Dawn

7 - Altogether too much happiness, don't you think?










Photo by Maureen K

L to R: Dawn, Shelley

8 - We strolled along Upper Water Street to our dinner reservation at Ristorante aMano down at Bishop's Landing. And the talking stopped for no man.









Photo by a very helpful server

L to R: Krista, Shelley, moi, Maureen, Dawn

9 - We met up with Shelley's close friend Krista at the restaurant, and so commenced several hours of talk-talk-talk, laugh-laugh-laugh, sip, sip, chew, chew, talk-talk-talk, laugh-laugh-laugh.










Photo by Maureen K

L to R: Me, Dawn

10 - Dawn and I shared a bottle of prosecco. I first tasted this Italian version of dry champagne at our inaugural Girls' Overnight in Wolfville several years ago. One sip of this ambrosia and I was hooked for life.














Photo by Maureen K



L to R: Dawn, Krista

11 - When we got back to the suite, we found a tray of specialty cheeses and duck prosciutto, with a bottle of cabernet and a note from the chef.

The surprises just kept coming!

I never did mention what the 'king' part of the king suite meant. We ended up with the bedroom I described, with its own bathroom; a closet so big you could have slept in it; a seating area with a sectional sofa, fireplace and a second flat screen TV (neither of which were ever turned on); a second seating area with four armchairs (which we kept gravitating towards); a long marble bathroom; a dining table that seated eight; a rollaway cot for me tucked over by the harbourside windows; a bar and a kitchenette.














As we sat there marvelling at how the other half lives, we agreed that we could have easily fit forty people in there for a party, and there still would have been room to move around.














L to R: Dawn, Shelley

12 - Maureen had a wedding to go to the next day, so she couldn't stay for the overnight part. In the morning, we ordered room service and crowded in close at one end of the vast Citizen Kane table.














L to R: Dawn, me

13 - I just read over at Diana Frey's blog that the friendships formed between women are amongst the healthiest things we can do for ourselves. (For guys, the healthiest thing is to form longterm bonds with women - no joke.)

Here's a snippet from her post:

"Spending time with a friend is just as important to our general health as jogging or working out at a gym.

There's a tendency to think that when we are 'exercising' we are doing something good for our bodies, but when we are hanging out with friends, we are wasting our time and should be more productively engaged - not true.

In fact, the head of psychiatry at Stanford said that failure to create and maintain quality personal relationships with other humans is as dangerous to our physical health as smoking. So every time you hang out to schmooze with a gal pal, just pat yourself on the back and congratulate yourself for doing something good for your health.

Let's toast to our friendship with our girlfriends. Evidently it's very good for our health."














L to R: Me, Shelley

Apprentice Writer says Holy cats. I want to run away from home and move to Halifax. Darn sense of maternal responsibility!

Adelle Laudan says I go to a ladies PJ party every year. There are about a dozen of us and we laugh until our sides hurt.

Lovesmukiwa says What I would give for a getaway with my closest friends. I think I'll start a bucket list!

Wordless Wednesday - 161

Momstart says Beautiful shot.

Nikita Banerjee says I love the reflections in the water...lovely pic!

Jennie Marsland says What a gorgeous shot!

Through the Opera Glasses - 66 - How a Killer Query Letter Can Sell Your NaNoWriMo Story

If you're like me, you've given up several Novembers to the writing marathon known as NaNoWriMo.

So far, I'm currently finishing the second draft of the first NaNo story I developed a few years ago. I've also got about a third of another story from an aborted NaNo.

I'm already looking forward to this year's marathon - something I couldn't see putting myself through again, after my first ordeal. But something happened during these past few years. The thrill of the finish is a remarkable feeling on many levels. I've experienced it twice so far.

Even the unfinished attempt gave me the beginning of another novel - in fact, my Weekend Writer's Retreat is currently exploring the backstory of that one.

My friend Amy Ruttan knows an even greater thrill when it comes to the NaNo story she wrote last year.

She just sold it to Samhain Publishing under the name A.C. Ruttan!

Amy has very kindly agreed to share her killer query letter which sold her NaNo novel. If you've got a story kicking around, and are willing to put your blood, sweat and sanity into doing NaNoWriMo this November, just imagine what can emerge on the other side of that finish line.

~~~

Amy's Killer Query Letter


Dear Secret Agent and or editor [Of course here you would address the person your query is directed to]:

I am pleased to submit for your consideration my complete 80,000 word Urban Fantasy INCARNATE.

When those who protect us from the Apocalypse are being murdered there is only one Incarnate left with the balls to keep mankind from being sucked into hell—too bad she doesn’t really have balls. Cia doesn’t mind banishment in the Canadian Arctic, what does bother her is someone is bumping off fellow Incarnates, and she’s the next target. She’s already died once before and she’s not about to let that happen again. Especially, since the killer is apparently her estranged husband, Arthur who hasn’t spoken to her in a decade since she killed his brother.

To prove Arthur’s innocence and earn back his love she needs to find the real murderer before the Wrath consumes him. Although that’s going to be tricky given the entire world seems to be going to hell in a hand basket and her past life continues to haunt her on every turn of the ice road.

She has thirty days to find the killer before Hell breaks loose—literally

I am a member of the ____ [NAME ORGANIZATIONS HERE]. Under the name Amy Ruttan I am published with ___ [NAME PUBLISHERS HERE].

I would be happy to forward the complete manuscript at your request.

Thank you for your time and consideration.

Sincerely,

[Your legal name here]

Julianne MacLean says Great query! Congrats on the sale to Samhain, Amy!

Amy Ruttan says Thanks Julianne! Query letters were always so difficult for me. A great help was Query Ninja and her book. Best ebook on writing selling queries ever!

Travis Cody says Well now I want to read that book!