Entry 134: Words That Vanished

I’ve never been good at keeping a journal. It all boils down to consistency. There are days when I skip making an entry. Life can crowd out the time I need to write down my thoughts about a day’s events. I’ve also been reluctant to pose as an expert on the writing process. If I knew anything of value about writing, my work would already be in print. I went out on a skinny limb in 2022 when I shared my 365 days of thankfulness. The exercise forced me to put myself out there with my soft belly exposed. Thank you for joining me on my journey in the written word. Therefore, I plan to keep a journal in 2023 to document my progress. I will call this post Entry 134: Words That Vanished.

Note: I consider editing an important part of the writing process. Editing is where all the artistry happens.

My morning writing before I started Entry 134: Words That Vanished

I experienced a productive morning editing the three chapters in Amazing Buchanan and The Beast that I’ve been working on for several days. A problem occurred during my last save. The quote from the fictional book written by Hortense Duplantis vanished. That can only mean I forgot to hit save. When that happens, there is nothing to do but start over again. I redid what I finished yesterday and think it turned out better.

I am falling behind when it comes to writing my Echo Poems. The weather is good, so Word Daddy is off playing around somewhere. I worry that I might be required to come up with bail money again. The guy has a habit of finding trouble when he goes on one of these adventures. I will attempt to conjure up something myself, but it would be helpful if he whispered a few words into my ear. Working with a restless biker muse with a drinking problem is sometimes infuriating. I’ve attempted to fire him, but he doesn’t believe I’m giving him a pink slip. Did I mention his ego is also out of control? He argues that he’s the best I will get for what I am paying.

The book I am currently reading right now and Entry 134: Words That Vanished

The book Life After Life by Kate Atkinson has me on the edge of my seat. Poor Ursala goes through so much in her life I wonder why she keeps returning. I can’t imagine living through two world wars, rape, and a botched apportion to live the lonely life of a secretary in London. This book is my favorite written by this author.

What I’m listening to right now and Entry 134: Words That Vanished

I put 25 Bach Favorites on my stereo and earphones in my ears to block out the constant throbbing from my new neighbor’s open window. The woman seems nice enough, but she has poor taste in music. I only find one style of music difficult to listen to, but unfortunately, her favorite is that exact one. I’m not too fond of the stuff they play over FM radio. Anything produced during and after the pandemic lacks creativity and a pretense of originality. It all sounds the same. Rooster and I decided the best way to keep peace in this music war is to buy a set of headphones and listen to the music of our choice.

The adventure Rooster and I took and Entry 134: Words That Vanished

Rooster and I went to Indianapolis and visited our favorite antique store. I found books, and Rooster brought home a typewriter. We then went out to eat at one of our favorite restaurants, Fire by the Monon.

The thing I am most thankful for at this moment.

That none of the storms in the middle of the night were dangerous. We have had our share of them this year. 

The henhouse Lady says

I am so tired from getting woke up last night. An old lady needs her beauty-sleep.

Who is Molly Shea?

Molly Shea is an accomplished fictional short story writer from Indiana who writes short stories and novels about a fictional town called Tecumseh.  To read more of her short stories and adventures, click here.

Be sure to follow Molly on Twitter!

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Published by henhouselady

I am the author of Saving the Hen House. I didn't know when I started it would turn into a series. I love to ride motorcycles, the blues, my family, and going on adventures. This old hen rocks.

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