”If there’s a book that you really want to read, but it hasn’t been written yet, then you must write it.”
How about you? Is there a book you’d love to read that hasn’t been written? What do you love reading about, and how could you write about it? What fascinates you that could become the subject for your next story, essay, poem, or blog post?
Write On Wednesday “Extra Credit” Prompt: Make a list of 10 things you’re interested in learning more about…choose one and write about it in a way that inspires a reader to want to know more about it as well.
I love reading about underprivileged women who end up making something of themselves. I like strong female leads who know their own mind and are not swayed by public opinion. This woman does not have to be pretty on the outside, but she must be beautiful on the inside.
I enjoy reading about faeries and elves and all types of magical creatures, but again, I want a strong female character. She must strive to protect the people she loves and fight for what is right.
Some strong female characters that I enjoy are Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter, Princess Meredith NicEssus, Temperance Brennan, and Dr. Kay Scarpetta, just to name a few. I've always been envious of the work by Joss Whedon - he is the master of writing the strong female character.
1.) The Wicca Religion
2.) Eastern Medicine
3.) Holistic Herbs
6.) Psychic abilities
7.) Ghosts or other paranormal entities
8.) Werewolf legends
9.) Old Time Bootleggers
10.) ESP - Extrasensory perception
People don’t believe me when I tell them I hear voices. Voices complaining about the past, voices telling me about the future, voices narrating my present; I am constantly bombarded with voices swirling around in my head.
I’ve always been sensitive to other people and my surroundings. When I was a little girl, I could tell when someone was going to speak to me before they even opened their mouth. I always knew the score to games we played and I knew the outcome of petty fights over prized possessions. During my high school years, I was always the top student, not because of my photogenic memory, but because I could pick the test questions right out of my teachers’ heads.
It wasn’t until my late twenties that I realized my sensitivity to other people’s thoughts was only because of the ghosts drawn to the energy my body gave off. Ghost are all around us, but it takes a special person to be able to notice a ghost. Besides being sensitive to the supernatural, ghost are attracted to negative energy; fear or sadness being major conduits for the ghosts to cross over. Once a ghost has crossed over, it is drawn to my energy and begins to effect my surroundings.
Most of the time, these ghost just want their loved ones to know that they are fine. In the energy level were ghosts normally exist, there is no fear or worry, but sometimes new ghosts retain worry for loved ones and friends. For the ghosts to be able to enter their new realm, some feel the need to reassure loved ones.
But ghosts are not the only thing that alters my energy. Sometimes people close to me will have such strong emotions about something going on in their life, that their anxious energy reaches out to me like a slap in the face. Over the years, I have learned how to protect myself from unwanted attacks.
Wearing a hat will help lessen my ability to read people close to me. I will sometimes wear a baseball cap or a wide brim straw hat; I’ve even worn bandannas. Because it is sometimes not acceptable to wear a hat indoors, I always wear a piece of emerald on a chain around my neck. My emerald is wrapped in gold wire and twisted into a pendant; it used to belong to my sister, but when she died it became mine. I’ve not had it off in the five years since her death.
None of these precautions totally stop thoughts and images from entering my brain and it certainly doesn’t stop the ghost from whispering in my ear, but they do provide enough relief that I’m not a captive in my home. And contrary to popular belief, sometimes I like to know what is going on around me. Sometimes I like to hear my sister whispering in my ear.
Tonight I'm sitting in the local Cactus Joe’s Steakhouse, huddled in a back booth trying to warm my fingers as I waited on best friend, Linda, to join me for a late supper and some beer. We don’t get to hang out much any more, but we still try to connect at least once a week, and tonight was the night. I had already ordered a pitcher of beer and I was halfway through my second glass. There was a blazing fire in the large fireplace angled in the corner and even though I was feeling warmer, by fingertips still felt frozen
I twisted my emerald between the fingers of my left hand and I gazed around the large room at other diners. The booth across from mine held two couples, a couple on each side of the booth. Although each couple was trying to act relaxed, the nervous tension emanating from the table was ringing a gong in my head.
“God, I wish this night was over with! I can’t wait to get away from David and Susan.”
This thought was coming from the perky little red head on the left side of the booth. At first, I thought David was the other boy, but after hearing more of her mental conversation, I realized David was her date; Susan was the other girl. Apparently there was some hanky panky going on with the opposite couples.
“Damn, Jennifer looks hot tonight; why can’t Susan look that hot?”
These thoughts oozed out of David. They should be so ashamed of themselves! Susan was sparkling with love for her boyfriend and David felt the same about his girlfriend. Susan and David would one day know the truth, but tonight was obviously not the night.
I picked up my glass, drained it and then poured my third drink; if Linda didn’t hurry up, I’d be ordering a second pitcher. I started nibbling on some bread, trying not to let my mind wander through the room.
A woman with cancer was grieving the end of her life; she was trying to put on a brave face for her husband of 37 years, but her brain was in the dark place. Another woman was upset because her husband had lost his interest in sex. A young lawyer was worried about an upcoming trial and a physician was re-living a difficult surgery from this afternoon. All these thoughts came flying at me. I clutched my emerald tighter and the thoughts faded but did not disappear.
© Bobbi Rightmyer