An apple a day…

How many of you hasn’t heard the old saying, ‘An apple a day keeps the doctor away’? Yep, I thought so. Here in Georgia, apples are all the rave at the moment. Tis the season I always say.

It’s the same with writing. But it would say, ‘Writing every day keeps the writer’s block away’. I do believe this is true. A couple of days lately, I’ve been so busy with other things, that I didn’t get to write. I know, that’s horrible, but true. By the time I went to bed on those days, my head was so filled with writing that I couldn’t sleep, so back to writing every day.

Do you write everyday? Even if it’s just a line or two, it helps to keep your writer brain from becoming over full. As I’ve said before, I have a schedule and if I miss a day, well, it causes a schedule jam. I’m in the middle of that jam right now. When you schedule so many words a day, then miss one, well, you get the picture.

How do you keep your writer brain happy?

As always, good writing and May God Bless You..

Just to give you a snippet of my current wip, here’s a few lines from Wine, Wedding, & The Cowboy…

Abri stood there looking at her best friend. She couldn’t do it, could she? Would she find someone in less than a month? No, she couldn’t. Taking a deep breath, she looked him straight in the eye and straightened her shoulders. “Baron, we have to get married.” There, she’d said it. Although from the look on Baron’s face, she hadn’t handled it very well.
Baron sat forward, his eyes wide with surprise. “This is so sudden. I don’t know what to say.” Then he laughed. “Have you been testing the new wine again?”
“No, I’m serious Baron.” Abri dropped into the chair across from him.
“Ok, what do you mean you’re serious?” Baron saw the look in her eyes and knew she wasn’t joking. But what on earth could have her asking him to marry her.
Abri clasped her hands together as she looked down at her lap. “My father, being the old fashioned man he is, says that I have to be married before my 25th birthday in order to inherit Tuscan Rose Farms.”
“What? When did this come about?” Baron bunched his brows together. He knew that this farm and vineyard was her heart.
“If you’d showed up for Thanksgiving dinner as you were supposed to, then you’d know.” Abri shot him a withering look.
“You know that I don’t like eating at the main house. It’s no secret that your father doesn’t care that much for me. Besides, I ate with the guys down at the mess hall. We had the best fried turkey and the dressing, well, what can I say, it was amazing.” He began to relay all of the menu, knowing that Abri was beginning to fume, but he loved it when she got angry. There was this light that came into her face. She was beautiful, but when she got angry, wow.
“Baron! I don’t need a play by play of what you ate for lunch. All I need is for you to say you’ll marry me and we’ll be good.”
“I can’t marry you. What would people say?” Baron was giving her a hard time and it paid off. The light came into her face and he was awestruck.
“You have to. I don’t have any other takers. You know yourself I haven’t dated anyone in months. And where would I find someone to marry on this short of notice. Oh, and I already told my father and cousin that we were engaged, well, that you’d asked and I had yet to answer.”
“What? Abri!” Baron stood up, running his fingers through his blond hair.
“I know! Just listen. I have a plan.”
Baron rolled his eyes. “Abri, I’ve been a part of your plans before. They never work out as you see them. This will be a disaster and both of us will be homeless when the dust settles.” He held his hands in the air, then growled in response to the thought of the disaster it would be.
“No, wait. We can have a quick wedding, with a fake minister and fake license. Once the deed is done, we can get a divorce later. If I meet someone, then we’ll have a fake divorce.” Abri shrugged her shoulders.
Baron sat back down, the air leaving his lungs in a long sigh. “Abri, do you realize what you’re asking?”
“Yes, I know it’s a huge favor, but I can’t lose my birthright because of an old fashioned man with old world ideas. Please say you’ll marry me, at least for a short time. You’re my best friend, it can’t be that big of a deal. Well, maybe it’s a big deal, but it will be fake.” Abri sat forward in the chair and smiled at him, batting her lashes.
“Abri, I need to think about this.” Baron said, running his hand over his face. He’d die a slow death if he was married to her, fake or real. She was everything to him, but if he married her, it would be the real deal. It would be for love, not for a vineyard.