appy Insecure Writer's Support Group Day!
There's some exciting stuff in the IWSG world!
Insecure Writer's Support Group
A database resource site and support group for writers and authors. Featuring weekly guests and tips, a monthly blogfest gathering, a Facebook group, a book club, and thousands of links – all to benefit writers!
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Purpose: To share and encourage. Writers can express doubts and concerns without fear of appearing foolish or weak. Those who have been through the fire can offer assistance and guidance. It’s a safe haven for insecure writers of all kinds!
Posting: The first Wednesday of every month is officially Insecure Writer’s Support Group day. Post your thoughts on your own blog. Talk about your doubts and the fears you have conquered. Discuss your struggles and triumphs. Offer a word of encouragement for others who are struggling. Visit others in the group and connect with your fellow writer – aim for a dozen new people each time – and return comments. This group is all about connecting!
Our Twitter handle is @TheIWSG and hashtag is #IWSG
Let’s rock the neurotic writing world!
The awesome co-hosts for the March 6 posting of the IWSG are
Kristina Kelly, Miffie Seideman, Jean Davis and Liza @ Middle Passages!
Every month, we announce a question that members can answer in their IWSG post. These questions may prompt you to share advice, insight, a personal experience or story. Include your answer to the question in your IWSG post or let it inspire your post if you are struggling with something to say. Remember, the question is optional.
March 6th question: Have you "played" with AI to write those nasty synopses, or do you refuse to go that route? How do you feel about AI's impact on creative writing?
Short answer, I have not! The process of creation is so exciting and interesting and fun, why would I not want to share in it? Why would I want to give away any part of the creative process? I'd rather have my taxes filed and my chores done, so I can have more time to write!
Don’t forget we have IWSG swag!
Everyone at IWSG is a volunteer and the domain name costs money. The little extra from swag purchases goes to that domain. And it’s your chance to show the world you are insecure and proud!
Visit the IWSG Swag page today!
IWSGPit is coming up!
The next #IWSGPit will be in March 27, 2024, 10:00 am - 8:00 pm Eastern Standard Time.
Create a Twitter-length pitch for your completed and polished manuscript and leave room for genre, age, and the hashtag. On Wednesday, March 27, 2024, Tweet your pitch using #IWSGPit. If your pitch receives a favorite/heart from a publisher/agent check their submission guidelines and send your requested query. CLICK HERE FOR THE RULES AND HOW TO PARTICIPATE
Here's the latest installment from Larksong!
Larksong is set in Montreal, July 1914.
In chapter 1, Alice arrived at the family cottage to take care of
her grandmother's aviary, following her grandmother's funeral, only to
find that her parents had already leased the cottage to another family
for the summer. The only way she could have one more summer in her
favourite place was to surreptitiously take on the role of governess to
the two young girls...
In chapter 2, we met George, laid up at the hospital with a broken leg.
Instead of joining his friends on a Grand Tour of Europe, he's being
sent off to recuperate at a rented cottage in the country...
In chapters 3 and 4, we returned to Alice's point of view, and saw her
bonding with George's younger sisters. Then she got a surprise -- George was arriving at the cottage that very day! We saw a hint that Alice finds George attractive and interesting -- but also unbearably rude.
In chapters 5 to 7, they had their first argument, then argued once more, but the stakes were higher: war is on the horizon. Then George attempted a rapprochement.
In chapters 8 to 10, Alice had some feelings stirring... During their first evening together,
they began to suss each other out over a card game, and they reached a
détente of sorts before going their separate ways for the night.
In chapters 11 and 12, we started the next morning in George's point of view, with his dawning realization of his attraction to Alice. Yet this realization did not lead to greater friendliness.
In chapter 13 (which I mistakenly also labelled as 12!), a new complication arose, in the form of the arrival of Albert,
George's younger, and rather rude, brother.
Meanwhile, George was busy with inappropriate (as he thinks) thoughts of
Alice. (I skipped a scene where Alice takes the girls down to the lake
and needs to pretend with a neighbour, Mrs Chase, that she is not a
governess, but simply helping out with the girls. Then, while Alice is
distracted, trying to spin her web of half-truths and discussing the
threat of war on the horizon, Lucy gets up on a rickety boat tied up at
the dock and fell off into the water.)
In chapter 14, on returning from the lake, Alice and the girls overheard
an argument that ended with this outburst from George to his brother
Albert: "I don't need your tales of self-pity. The question is, what are you going to do about it, now that you've f***ed it all up?"
In chapters 15 and, we witnessed the fallout from the argument,
then shared a moment between Alice and George in the garden. Alice left
George and resumed her governess role, and decided not to join the
brothers that evening in the parlour.
In chapters 17 to 19, Alice went out early the next morning, to find George rowing on the lake, and joined him.
In chapter 20, following their early morning idyll, we finally
had a true rapprochement. Alice, making up her mind in an instant,
called out to George's sisters: "We're going on an expedition with your
brother."
(I skipped the rest of chapter 20, in which we take a trip through the
woods with Alice, George, and his sisters. There are friendly chats, the
girls sign their brother's cast, and George begins work on a sketch of
Alice. When they return home, the girls help Alice feed the birds in the
aviary and clean it in preparation for the arrival of Mr Palmer, a
prospective buyer visiting from Boston. Mr Palmer says he will make his
decision on purchasing the aviary and return the next day. Throughout
the day, there are hints of the gathering storms of war.)
In chapters 21 and, as Alice saw Mr Palmer off at the gate, a new complication emerged, in the arrival of Albert's friends from university. Alice and George came close to admitting their attraction, but then George unwittingly insulted the birds and the aviary and Alice's affection for her grandmother's pets.
In chapter 23, following omitted scenes (a bit of George's reflections
on Alice, and his feelings for her (as well as memories of unfavourable
reactions from his parents about his hobby of sketching and painting);
at the end, he decides that it might be a lark to try to lure Pixie away
from his brother. He proceeds to do just that before dinner as she
plays up her role of nurse and guides George through some exercises in
the front parlour. This leads to an arm wrestling match between all the
boys, involving both wagers for a few coins--and kisses for the winner
from Pixie. That evening, they all gather in the front parlour, and
agree to attend the ball and bonfire at the Hatley Manor hotel the next
night. George catches Albert and Pixie canoodling in the kitchen,
but decides he's in no position to say anything because he was ready to
embrace Alice the governess), the next day, the crowd slept in, all
except Alice, who took her charges into the village to watch a magic
lantern show. On their return, George decided to show them his
secret--the full extent of his artistry.
It was revealed that Eleanor is also a budding artist, and the siblings
agreed to continue to develop their talent and to hide it from their
disapproving parents.
In chapters 24 and 25, the girls returned to the house, and Alice and George, alone in the enclosed garden,
sat side by side on the bench... They kissed, and Alice revealed her
true identity to George. They talked, perhaps all too briefly, about
what they would do with their newfound feelings.
In chapter 26, George watches her with Mr Palmer (who's returned to
inspect the aviary and agree on its purchase) and thinks about how he's
actually looking forward to the big party at the fancy hotel that
night, now that he'll have Alice on his arm. I've skipped this bit, and a
bit where they discuss Alice's attachment to the cottage and the birds,
as well as the fact that Alice isn't really a governess and what they
might have to tell his family, if anything. Also a part where, seated
side-by-side and hand-in-hand on the porch, they talk of George's hopes
and plans for his future career, in despite of his father. Then she asked him if he meant to return to England, but Albert interrupted.
Now, in chapter 27, evening has come, and they are all on their way to the banquet and dance at Hatley Manor...
When the time came, despite Albert's jibes, they all headed down to Hatley Manor together, taking the lakeshore path like a happy family.
Alice attempted to dampen Eleanor and Lucy's excitement––Lucy was bouncing around so much she was likely to fall into the water––by having them wheel their brother in his chair and carry his crutches for him. Responsibility could not quell their chatter, though.
As the others walked ahead, Colin and Neil at the front and Albert with Pixie directly before George, Lucy scampered about, occasionally giving a nudge to the chair, but for the most part leaving Alice to do the pushing. "We're going to a party! We're going to a party!" the girl chanted. She'd been graciously permitted by her sister to wear her favourite of Eleanor's dresses, and held up the skirt as she hopped about, mindful of the dusty track if not of her own safety in leaping so close to the edge.
Eleanor, hefting the crutches over one shoulder, a tin soldier at the march with rifle at port arms, kept glancing down, as if making certain her new dress hadn't reverted to her everyday pinny, like Cinderella unsure of gown and glass slippers. Alice had shortened one of her own dresses and tucked in a couple of pleats at the shoulders, while Elsie packed cotton wool into a pair of Alice's slippers. Eleanor was old enough to recognise quality, and not vain; she'd not acted disdainful of earlier seasons' fashions. Both gown and slippers fit her to a T after Alice and Elsie's ministrations, and Eleanor was as excited over something new to wear as by attending the party itself. She skipped on every third step, jaunty in her finery, and the crutches clacked together.
Alice's hands on the chair's handles were directly behind George's shoulders, and she felt his flinch at each clack of the crutches. She could wish she was as carefree as the girls. She'd been looking forward to the party, but now the threat of Albert hung like a low cloud over the night. Yet George seemed more weighted even than she was; she remembered the frustration of being physically limited and reliant on others. She might offer him a platitude––this, too, shall pass––but he'd simply say "what good does that do now?"
Every now and then he set his hands to the wheels and propelled himself forward, then stopped as the chair jolted on the gravelled walk. His leg must pain him something fierce at every bump and, when he was not wheeling himself, she tried to steer him around the worst of the ruts.
He did not look up at her once.
He'd not changed out of his everyday suit, in the end, but had on a new collar, and had shaved. She'd heard him calling to Elsie for hot water as she'd stitched Eleanor's hems, and could smell the musky undertone of his aftershave.
He hadn't asked her for anything, and she'd been so busy with the girls, who'd both wished to have their hair curled, she hadn't had a chance to ask whether he needed help. Pixie and the other boys had been demanding enough, running Elsie ragged with ironing and starching and shoe polishing. It was a wonder George had gotten his hot water.
Once the girls were ready, Alice had thought to curl her own hair, but Pixie had called for Elsie to bring her the tongs. Alice had set the girls in the parlour with a strict admonition to stay put, and retreated to the kitchen to help Elsie with whatever she could. Pixie, reheating the tongs at the fire, had accosted her the moment she'd entered, begging to borrow all sorts of items––punctuated by derision at having to wear outdated fashions along with a declaration that "it doesn't matter as much in a one-horse town"––with the result that she was now walking before Alice dressed in another of her gowns and sporting Alice's second-best slippers, silk stockings and lace gloves. Albert was complimenting her hat. Pixie laughed off his tribute, said something Alice couldn't hear and, giggling, dropped his arm and tripped up the path to stride between Neil and Colin.
Albert's footsteps faltered, and then he gave a sort of half-shrug and fell back, until Alice and George had drawn level with him.
He nudged Alice aside with his hip in an overly familiar fashion, and took over wielding the chair. "Rather quiet you are this evening, brother," he commented. "Yet you've got the prettiest escort." He tipped his hat to Alice.
Perhaps it hadn't been wise to leave off her mourning, after all.
Not only because it invited attention from Albert, but because she was bound to be questioned by any one of the village elders at the party, though she continued to wear her black armband. Yet vanity had won out; she'd not wanted to be outdone by Pixie, and of the items she'd brought out of storage, had kept her best dress and accessories for herself. Her hat boasted just as many frills and silk flowers, though possibly her dress was a little too Montreal for a country dance. She was glad of her mink, which toned down the effect of the innumerable sparkling beads cascading down her dress.
If Albert noticed that her stole was genuine, he did not comment on how a governess might have obtained such an item. He himself was in a well-cut suit of dove grey and carried a gold-topped walking stick, tucked under his arm when he'd commandeered the chair. He wasn't as lax as Lucy but neither was he as fastidious at wheeling his brother as Alice had been, and George was jolted more than once, hand flying up to resettle his hat. Yet George did not take over the wheels as he'd done with her, and instead let his brother do what he would.
"I hope I may have the pleasure of a dance or two, Miss Underwood," Albert stated boldly. "You're not planning on playing with the kiddies all evening, are you?"
"I had intended to return them to the house at a reasonable hour, Mr. Cunnick. Elsie will be arriving to fetch them after the supper."
"Meaning that you yourself intend to stay on? Splendid!" He leaned across the handlebar to her side, tilting his head conspiratorially. "There is a matter I wished to consult with you about."
With an effort, she kept from looking down at George, though she wished to see his reaction to this new twist to Albert’s machinations. "I am available whenever you wish, Mr. Cunnick," she said as formally as she could.
"Now that's what I like to hear!" Albert slapped his brother's shoulder and stepped away from the chair, leaving it in the middle of the path. "I shall come find you, Miss Alice," he called back as he sauntered ahead, twirling his walking stick.
"Damned impertinence," George muttered, as Alice resumed wheeling his chair; the first words he'd spoken since they'd left the house.
"We're almost there, in any case."
"What does that have to do with anything?"
Alice ignored his surliness and turned to call out to Eleanor and Lucy, who were lingering by the lakeshore, poking at rocks with the ends of the crutches. "Girls! Don't get waterweeds all over your brother's crutches."
"I'd like to see Albert's suit bescumbered," George said under his breath.
Again she ignored his rudeness. "Look, girls, there's the hotel." They scampered up, thrusting the slimed crutches into Alice's hands and slowing to a walk as they gaped at the hotel, visible through a gap in the trees at the turn of the path; a shining beacon, with lights beaming brightly in every window of its seven storeys.
Then they were gone, running ahead to where Albert and Pixie were strolling arm in arm, through the first of the row of lanterns bestowing their soft golden glow on the main drive up to the front gates. A gentle music wafted out of the open doors.
"What the hell am I doing here?" George growled.
"The same as the rest of us," Alice said matter-of-factly, deciding that adopting a straightforward manner was the only way to handle him. "You're here to eat of a scrumptious country buffet, have a drink or two, and ogle what the girls are wearing."
"You didn't mention dancing." At first his expression had lightened at her words, but just as quickly his scowl reappeared. "I'll have to sit on the sidelines with the old folks, watching you cut a rug with Albert."
That wasn't at all what she wanted, neither to spend time with Albert, nor to be apart from George. But, keeping up her flippancy, she asked, "Is he a good dancer?"
"Not as good as I am." He reached up behind and placed his hand over hers. "I need to touch you, Alice." They held hands in silence for a moment in the last bit of cover before they moved out into the lit-up grounds. She wondered what might happen if they spent the entire night here and never joined the others. His features would soften, his arm would circle her waist, his mouth––
"Without a dance, there's no other way I can, tonight,” George went on. “Don't let Albert get fresh, will you?"
Evading the last, and encouraged by his warm touch and her own daydreams, she said boldly, "How would it be if I danced for you? On the beach, during the midnight bonfire?"
"Don't tease me," he replied quickly, voice hoarse. "If you mean it, I shall look forward to that throughout this forsaken evening. And I promise, as soon as this leg heals––whether we're all back in Montreal or even if war comes––I will not be a mere spectator. I will dance with you. As soon as I am able."
"Don't mention war. Let's have one last long night before any clouds gather––if they must."
"They will," he said, but added no more, and his palm was warm against hers.
A few of my latest knitting projects! A just-begun blanket, a neckwarmer, and a hat!
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Oh, yes, and a pretty plant, which grew from a cutting!
Have you been to a dance or other event recently?
Please offer some musical suggestions!
I may add them to the story playlist!
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