It’s the perfect time of the years, with the nights turning cooler and the leaves falling, to curl up by the fire with a good story. So, from fellow writers across the web, here are a few of my favorites.
“Today I’m participating in a group blogging! WOW! Women On Writing has gathered a group of blogging buddies to write about finding love in unimaginable places. Why this topic? We’re celebrating the release of Michael French’s twenty-fourth novel. Once Upon a Lie (Terra Nova Books) is an exploration of the secrets families keep, and the ways those secrets can tear a family apart.
Growing up in South Carolina, one would expect me to know how to Shag. No, not shag – I’m an American, not a Brit. I mean, I had two daughters, so I knew how to shag – but I didn’t know how to shag. Okay, that’s way too much information and not what I was trying to say.
Let me start again – I grew up without learning how to do our state dance, the Carolina Shag – a partner dance done primarily to Beach Music. I loved dancing but as a single mom, I had long outgrown my high school dance moves. It was time to learn more adult moves – I meant to say sophisticated dance moves. Jeez. Getting this story out is harder than I planned.
When the time came, after my divorce, to get back into the dating game I decided a good place to start was to learn our state dance. Our local YMCA offered lessons and I signed up. However, with two little ones, a busy work schedule, and a very tight budget, I was unable to attend those first round of classes.
Months later, I tried again and with both young daughters in tow, I showed up at the YMCA ready to dance. Settling the girls in a corner, the oldest child with her homework and the youngest her blankie and pacy, I joined the other late bloomers for my first lesson in the art of the Carolina Shag and then the unimaginable happened. On the very first night, I met my husband – the love of my life.
I still remember the first time I saw him walk through the door. Tall, dark and handsome wearing black slacks and a red sweater, his dark brown eyes had me at ‘hello’. Over the course of eight weeks, I learned to shag, twirl, spin, and follow his lead. That was nearly thirty years ago.
I went to the YMCA to learn to dance, but I found love. Unimaginable.
It’s time to honor my fellow writers for giving us great stories to read. If you’re like me, a well-written story can stay on your mind for days. Sometimes, it motivates our creativity or nudges us to work harder on our stories.
For your reading enjoyment here are this week’s selections and don’t forget to share.
Once again, I like to share with you some of my favorite short stories. I hope you will like them as much as I did and, if so, pass them on for others to enjoy.