What If?

A writer friend says he comes up with story ideas by asking “what if?” questions. Now I can’t stop thinking about this method. When I get in bed at night now, what ifs keep me company, and when I wake up, they’re the first thing on my mind.

Here are some of my thoughts:

What if one day dogs developed the ability to speak to their humans in standard English, or French, or whatever language their humans speak? What if cats could do advanced mathematics? What if they were deemed a menace to society and hunted for their abilities?

What if someone discovered a cure for stupidity, but the powers that be had him/her murdered?

What if some humans suddenly developed the ability to fly, but only during a full moon?

What if no one ever died?

What if the cure for cancer was a single word, and the scientist who discovered it was in a coma?

What if no one ever took their own child home from the hospital—instead, they were assigned a child at random?

What if life actually didn’t begin until one was forty?

What if we, after death, had to answer for the lives of all the creatures we’d ever inadvertently killed in front of a committee of animals?

What if only women were allowed to run for public office?

Okay, I’ve probably bored you all, but I can’t help thinking about this stuff. Tomorrow maybe I’ll write about something more exciting. Like, watching grass grow.

What if there really was peace, people?

Titles Without a Tale

Every now and then I have a flash of an idea that turns into a title for a poem or story or expository piece for this blog. Sometimes these ideas pop fully blown into my head leaving me to type as fast as my fingers will allow. Sometimes I have to coax them along to fruition. Sadly, often these ideas go no further than the title stage.

I’m still suffering from some mental lag brought on by a combination of travel stress and daylight savings time. Nothing other than the desire to nap, snack, and repeat has manifested itself into my brain in the past two days. So I went to the place where titles go to percolate or expire–the dreaded “draft” folder. 

Here’s one. What was I thinking? Wine must’ve been involved. And maybe paddles. Wink, wink.

Well, I guess this next one might’ve gotten a bit sticky….

And the age old question didn’t awaken my muse.

Here are a couple of ideas that so far have gone nowhere.

And maybe I could combine these next two.

Fellow bloggers, do you do this? Keep a file of “might work” titles? 

Some of these need to go in the trash file. But not today. Today I’m feeling desperate. 

Peace, people!

Undiscovered Treasure

Facebook is a source of much of my blog inspiration. Between cute kitten videos and wine humor, political satire and jokes about aging (un)gracefully the social media site is a veritable treasure trove of ideas.

Take this post for example:


Here is one of the sentences I culled from the multitude running through my head:

Gabriella Montagne plucked a pomegranate from a basket on the kitchen counter and hurled it at her loathsome brother Claude, hitting him squarely in his one good eye.

Justification for this being a unique sentence: uncommon names, uncommon fruit, one good eye.

The possibilities are endless. Come, give it a try. Who knows where that sentence might lead? 
Peace and happy writing, people!

Flight of the Flip Flips

Studly Doright and I just returned from a trip to Gruene, Texas, for a reunion of the Floydada High School class of 1975. 

Always on the lookout for bloggable material, I had the marvelous idea of posting photos of myself on a variety of stops en route to Texas from Tallahassee. 

I started out strongly:

Milton, FL rest stop

Unfortunately, I quickly forgot all about the idea after the second stop. I might’ve been sidetracked by the quotes on the booths. 

TA Truck Stop, Grand Bay, Alabama


Notice I was incredibly proud of my toenails. They’d been painted green to commemmorate Floydada’s team colors. 

Due to heavy rains and cooler temperatures in Gruene, Texas, not a single person got to see my toes at the event. Their loss, right?

The reunion was incredible, though, even without my toes on display.


40 Years of Looking Good

Peace, people.