Lara D. Elliott - Inspirations

Here is the last of my magazine entries that didn't get accepted. Saved it for the season. This one was written for the 100 words or less challenge. Enjoy! “What is that?” Pauline shed her coat and pointed at the green monstrosity by the front window. Dave’s face scrunched. “What? The Christmas tree?” “I mean the mangled mess of wire and green plastic. You can’t have my parents over with that sitting in the living room.” “There’s nothing wrong with my tree. I’ve had that since college. It’s a tradition to put it up after the Turkey Bowl.” Dave lovingly stroked one of the branches. Several needles fluttered to the floor. “Dummy. My dad is a Christmas tree farmer. He will be insulted and appalled.” “Oh.” The doorbell rang. Did you check out my other magazine rejections? Read them here and here .

NaNoWriMo. National Novel Writing Month. Write a 50,000 word novel in the thirty days of November. And I won. Sorta. Last year's Nano project was started early too, but I only wrote a few thousand words in November. And then I kept writing for months. Over a year later, I finally had 50,000 words, but I was stumped on how to end it. After a couple critique partners read some chapters, I realized I had spent a year writing 50,000 words worth of crap. There were some good scenes in there. There was some good writing. But the plot lacked cohesion. Lacked motivation. I finally decided to give it up. Work on something else for a while. One project I started working on had actually started as a couple of scenes I jotted down many years ago. Even before I really became a serious "writer." I had an epiphany what direction I could take the story and I started outlining. It felt good to have some structure thought out. Then one day in October, I had a really crushing mom...

How does God speak to you? Are you listening? I’m not one of those people who pray and then hear God’s voice. Like literally. With my ears. Maybe some people do. They did in the Bible. But nowadays, most people receive God’s message through other means. Mine is through music. I’ve posted before about how music has been the vehicle to answer a prayer. This week it happened again. I had been hopeful, but knew that a couple of quasi-rejections were on their way. And I was right.   Wednesday, I learned that I was not a finalist in a contest that critiqued the first five pages of a manuscript. I entered two manuscripts. Neither was accepted. I’d only had a shred of hope left anyway, but the news still hit hard. I’d found out just before leaving work, so getting in the car for the ride home, I was sure the tears were going to come. But on the way home I heard the song that had encouraged me once before. They were the perfect words to express what I was feeling. ...

I'm in debate with a friend over whether it is therapeutic to write depressing fiction when one is depressed. Said friend had been writing a novel when she was depressed. The novel was going to end with the character's suicide. Friend has since gotten past the dark times and has abandoned the book. If you've been reading my blog for awhile, you may already know that I've been dealing with depression for the past year. I'm to the point where I'm considering going to the doctor about it. I've had a couple of tests for things that could be related to depression, but they have come back negative. Anyhoo, in the meantime I've taken to writing to deal with it. I've written blog posts, poetry, flash fiction, tweets. But just recently, I've started a novel. The novel reminded me of my friend's so I told her about it. She said stop. It's dangerous. But here's the thing. My novel doesn't end in suicide. My novel has a happy ending. M...

As Lee is bartending at the club on the chilly last night of winter, he glances in the mirror over the liquor cabinet and sees behind him a beautiful girl with jet black hair and bright red lipstick which pops in contrast to her white off-the-shoulder sweater. She seems to be part of a whole group of girls, eight in all, but luckily she is not the one wearing the “bride-to-be” sash. She’s taller than the rest, a bit quieter, and absolutely the most beautiful. She’s consoling the one with the grumpy face, probably upset that she’s not the one getting married. Lee serves drinks, but keeps his eye on the girl in white. She makes her way around to everyone in the entourage, laughs with the one who has a toothy smile, rolls her eyes at the blonde with the dopey look in her eyes, dances with the one he recognizes as a nurse from his doctor’s office. She introduces the shy one to a guy, offers a tissue to the one with allergies, and steals keys from the bride who has had so ...

Wouldn't it be great to be happy all the time? I've fallen into the trap of comparing myself to someone. Someone who appears happy all the time. Not always smiles. Sometimes complaining. Sometimes frustrated. But never sad. Never depressed. I've been happy for the past month. Somewhat of a record in comparison to the past year. But today, one little thing set me on a downward spiral. Five minutes. Five measly minutes. In the grand scheme of things, five minutes is nothing. But today, five minutes put me into a sort of relapse. If only I had gotten ready faster this morning. If I hadn't hit snooze one more time. If my son would put his own freakin' shoes on. If I had eaten my breakfast in the car instead of at home. Five minutes was all I needed. Now I can't stop thinking about it. I made a mistake. A tiny mistake. But the impact was bigger. My reflection on what happened is bigger. Every depressing doubt about my life has invaded my brain again and won...

Having heard rumors of what happened to Rapunzel’s keeper, Elvira vows not to befall a similar end and so stows away her beautiful ward, Zerlina, in a tall tower in the middle of the sea. “One of my more brilliant ideas,” Elvira brags to the witches’ council. “Not a chance that the little darling will escape. Not only can’t she swim, but I’ve cut her hair short as a pixie’s.” Meanwhile, in a faraway kingdom, Prince Gian sets out on a quest to rescue the daughter of the great mage, Masetto. “My daughter is very beautiful,” Masetto tells Prince Gian. “I offer you her hand if you can bring her back safely. A witch has taken her across the land toward the sea.” Eager to win the hand of such a conquest, Prince Gian seeks the help of every troll, gnome, and hobbit to point him in the right direction. Soon enough, he finds his way to the edge of the sea with a view of a tall tower that stands quite a distance from the shore. The waves look too violent to swim and he has no bo...