My Paper Trail

                  By ROSEMARY LORD

D’you ever forget what you’ve ordered online? I ordered a ream pack of copy paper. I was surprised because about 2 hours later a ream of 500 sheets of white paper was delivered. “That was quick” I thought. Even for Amazon Overnight. Except it wasn’t.  I’d ordered that paper two days ago – and promptly forgot. Oh well, so now I had two reams of copy paper. A writer can never have enough paper, I told myself.

As a writer, there is nothing better than to hold a fat wad of copy paper in one’s hands and know that, like magic, it is suddenly going to be covered in your very own words.

But I think I’m becoming a bit of a “clutterholic” where stationary is concerned. It was when I thought I was running out of paper – then discovered that I wasn’t – that I realized it was high time to de-clutter my stationary stash. Where does one start? Hmmm.

With great enthusiasm, I began to pull items off the shelves onto the floor. The idea was that I could sort through it all and put back only that which I really needed.

There was a lot of it. Knee deep in assorted packets of Easy Address labels, a box of hanging files, another stuffed with manila folders, a slew of tabbed sheet protectors, ‘Avery Clean Edge Business Cards’, and so on. I had many brightly colored folders – with the plan to color code and use specific colors for certain subjects.  But I hadn’t got that far yet, so there they sat. I found five packets of photographic paper – never used.

A large stack of manuscript sized envelopes – no longer needed because we send manuscripts by email nowadays. But I had liked the satisfaction of putting my sacred, written pages in an envelope with a carefully worded cover letter, beautifully addressed and stamped and the satisfaction of taking it to the post office and sending it off with a silent prayer and crossed fingers. Most satisfying.  It is still not quite the same as eventually pushing ‘send.’ There’s no tactile interaction there. Sorry, manuscript-sized envelopes: out you go.

I filled a large box with dozens of superfluous folders, hanging files, the afore-mentioned envelopes, see-through plastic folders. And what was with the multicolored copy paper?    A ream of lime green, another of yellow. Aha! I had a plan! I remember thinking I would print my Lottie Topaz novel on lime-green paper, which would catch the eye of the editors who could not resist pulling my green-colored manuscript out from the ever-growing slush pile of submitted manuscripts.  Of course, this never worked. And I still had a lot of colored paper left over. Into the charity box it goes.

The eleven spiral notebooks I could comfortably justify. I start my writing projects scribbling in such a notebook and fill it with the outline, a plot line, then many pages of character developments, colorful backgrounds, relevant plot through-lines and dénouement thoughts.  But these were all empty. So, eleven times I bought the notebook and had not used them, so that they ended up on the shelf next to the others.  Although, in my defense, on another shelf I discovered a whole stack of well-filled such notebooks, from cover to cover crammed with handwritten ideas, characters, names to use. I did something right.  Except, why were they sitting on a shelf in the cupboard, instead of on my desk, ready to be used in my next book? But eleven abandoned, empty notebooks? Not good.

As a writer of historical books and novels, I do a great deal of research. I was smugly satisfied with the idea that I had organized my research and kept copious copies of articles on historic figures, historic buildings, historic happenings. Problem was that I had obviously found these subjects so interesting that I just had to print them out, save them and file them.  Now I was faced with two boxes of such printouts. On closer examination, many of them were duplicated. Besides, with today’s technology, I can find a lot of what I want on the internet. I saved only a few of these – in the bin with the rest of them. I said a quick “sorry” to all the trees who had given their lives to support my paper clutter addiction.

I found a whole stack of papers marked “for filing.” Glancing through them, they were clearly not interesting enough to have been filed, and I could not see why I kept them. So, they were gone, too.

And then I looked into the box-files, where I had stored many years of handwritten notes, hastily scribbled on old envelopes, paper scraps, on the reverse side of something else I’d written. What was I thinking?!  That investigation into my stationary cupboard was quite overwhelming and I knew I had to get a grip on it.

I have a new friend at the Woman’s Club who is the ultimate in techie-nerdiness. He persuaded me to get a scan-copy machine and showed me how much easier and quicker it is to scan things I need to keep, or interesting articles I want to read when I have time. Now I can access those papers, research articles, my copious writing notes and half-finished books wherever I am – on my laptop or even on my phone. And they only take up a quarter-of-an-inch-square on my desktop. Who knew? And, because I am still a bit leery of all this techno-wizardry, I still copy everything onto flash drives, just for safe measure.

I hate to admit it, but my endless trail of paper collecting has forced me into the scary world of technology, if only to save the trees.   But I still cannot resist a lovely clean notebook or legal pad, with pencil poised, so I can unleash my imagination and create a whole new world for myself and my readers. And this is where the paper trail continues.

Last ‘Group Post’ in 2025 – a Holiday Story

by WinR members

In 150 words or fewer, use (most of) these holiday words in a story: snowflake, candle, cookie, bell, star, and mitten. Your story can be funny, magical, reminiscent, or adventurous—it’s up to you!”

  1. Jill Amadio

“Despite the snowflakes landing on her nose and eyes (the only parts of her uncovered) as she trudged along the lane in Boston, she kept hoping for a glimpse of the stars. It was her sole method of navigation, and she longed to see Venus, her home planet.

Suddenly, she spotted a small dark object a few feet ahead. Curious, she picked it up, noting five leather tubes, four next to each other, and another, shorter tube separated from the others (a mitten!). The object appeared to be similar to her own three tubes for each hand. She threw it back onto the snow as she heard a deep booming sound coming from the pointed structure up ahead (a bell tower!).

She stopped to listen as the booms changed tone quickly, and she realized this was what mortals called music. She entered and saw a myriad of little burning candles on a stand. Was this a code?

She ran outside, fumbled in her pocket to retrieve her “nallimachine,” and pressed the shifter button. Instantly, she shot up into the sky, through the snow clouds, and into a triangular craft that had its door already open.

“SoiurmmegivomortChristmasalsii,” she gasped. The pilot nodded and pushed a series of knobs, sending the craft into space.

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2. Maggie King

Every year, my daughter Molly and I watch Christmas movies. When The Bells of St. Mary’s ended, I started Frosty the Snowman and went to the kitchen to heat hot chocolate for the two of us. Outdoors, fat snowflakes fluttered in the air, covering the ground in a thick, white blanket. I picked up one of Molly’s mittens from the floor.

“Mom,” Molly cried from the family room. “The star is crooked!”

I handed Molly a mug of fragrant hot chocolate and straightened the star on top of the tree. The tinsel on the branches reflected the lights in jewel colors of red, green, and blue.

“Mom, can we leave Christmas cookies on the mantle for Santa?”

“Of course, darling. And you get to pick the cookies Santa will like.”

Molly squealed in delight. “I love Christmas, Mommy.”

“So do I, darling. So do I.”

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3.  Jackie Houchin

Mittens, my black-and-white tuxedo kitten, jumped from my bed to the bookcase by my window and wiggled her head through the slit in the curtains.  I heard her “chat-chat-chatter” at something outside, but I was too cozy in my bed to get up and see.

She started “running” her front paws on the cold glass, making a squeaking sound, and jingling the bell on her collar.  “Meow,” she said, pushing through the curtain to stand on the windowsill, her tail twitching.

I popped the rest of my gingerbread cookie into my mouth and climbed out of bed. “Brrrrr.” I stuck my head between the curtains to see what Mittens saw. She was purring as loudly as an electric pencil sharpener now!

“Awwww,” I purred too. In the neighbor’s upstairs window across from mine was my friend’s new white Persian kitten. She had a big red Christmas ribbon around her neck. 

“Hi, Star!” I said and waved Mittens’ paw at her.  She squeezed her golden eyes shut briefly and smiled.

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4. G. B. Pool

A bell went off in young Bobby Gentry’s head last year when he tried catching a glimpse of Santa and his reindeer, which he did every Christmas Eve. He saw something flash across the night sky, followed by a shower of snowflakes that looked like glittering stars.

He planned all year for this next Christmas Eve. He picked out the prettiest cookie his aunt had made for the holiday party earlier that evening and stuffed it in his pocket. It was broken by the time he got home, but it would have to do.

He left a note, the cookie, some mittens for Santa to keep his hands warm, and a handmade card. In the note, Bobby said he didn’t want anything for himself, but would Santa deliver this card on his journey.

The card featured a lopsided cake and three candles. Written inside were these words:  Happy Birthday, Jesus.

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5. Linda Johnston

Who Saved Who?

Wearing a jacket and boots, Ava approached her car outside her Indiana home as snowflakes fell. Christmastime was nearing. Today was growing late, and a star glowed in the darkening sky.

She and her husband, Bret, had no kids yet, and Ava was lonesome since Bret had suddenly left town for business.  Well, she knew where to go. She and Bret had already made the decision. Now, it was time.

Driving carefully, Ava soon reached the pet shelter where a candle burned in the window. Exiting her car, she pulled on mittens for the short walk inside.

And yes! She was met at the entrance by volunteer Sue, with a special dog leashed beside her: an adorable, abandoned Papillon mix.

“Hi, Lucy!” Ava knelt to offer a small dog cookie.  As Lucy ate it, Ava stood and looked at Sue. “Is she–?”

“She’s yours after we finalize paperwork.”

Ava smiled and picked Lucy up. Christmas in their household would be wonderful.

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6. Renee LeVerrier (guest)

A Haiku

Mom’s cookie tins hold

Stars and snowflakes, mittens, bells 

Reach in for childhood

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7. Barb Bland (guest) 

All the other women in my family were up to their eyebrows cooking, shopping, wrapping, and decorating for Christmas, so I volunteered to look after my three-year-old niece, Lizzie, who was sick in bed. In her darkened bedroom, I told her about The Star and the heavenly angels appearing to the shepherds watching their flocks by night. 

“The German Shepherds?” she interrupted.

I realized that her next-door neighbor had two dogs of that breed and that Lizzie was too young to have yet learned about nationalities, so I simply laughed and said,  “Yes. The German Shepherds.”

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Hope you all enjoyed the stories.  Got any of your own to share??

 

Deadlines–The Good, the Bad and… any Ugly?

By Linda O. Johnston

 

calendar and writingI’m a writer.

Writers have deadlines.

If we’re traditionally published, they’re set by the publisher, with our agreement.  If we’re self published, they’re largely set by ourselves.

I’ve been doing this for a while and generally consider deadlines my friends.  They certainly keep me moving.

Recently I’ve been under deadlines for four Harlequin Romantic Suspense novels.  I met the first two with no problem, but I’d agreed to the third being shorter than usual thinking I could meet it anyway–but I had to ask for an extension.

I just turned in that manuscript.

DEADLINE1Now I’m working on the fourth of those books. I’m first doing a synopsis and three chapters to turn in, then finishing the rest of the manuscript.  I have a few months, so I should be fine. But right now I’m looking at all the weekend events, panels and more, that I’ve agreed to in the near future. Then there will be a visit from some dear family members that will probably use up a week. And an annual trip that has been extended to see those family members at their home. So… well, I’m worried about meeting that deadline.

After I do?  Well, I’m not sure what I’m writing next.  I’m hoping to do more mysteries, but I’m not under any contracts.  And I’d enjoy writing more romantic suspense books as well.

But after that deadline is over, I have some trips planned, so I’ll have to be careful.

Okay, I’m not the only one with deadlines. And I had all kinds of other deadlines when I was also a practicing attorney. Nearly everyone has deadlines in their lives. Do you? Writing deadlines? Work deadlines? Family deadlines?

calendar for deadlineYes, deadlines are a part of life.

What do you think of the ones in your life? Do you face them down and stare at them and meet them? Or do you cringe when you think of them?

Or do you want more of them, as I do?

 

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lindaphotoLinda O. Johnston, a former lawyer who is now a full-time writer, currently writes two mystery series for Midnight Ink involving dogs: the Barkery and Biscuits Mysteries, and the Superstition Mysteries.  She has also written the Pet Rescue Mystery Series, a spinoff from her Kendra Ballantyne, Pet-Sitter mysteries for Berkley Prime Crime and also currently writes for Harlequin Romantic Suspense as well as the Alpha Force paranormal romance miniseries about shapeshifters for Harlequin Nocturne.

 

 

This article was posted for Linda O. Johnston by Jackie Houchin