by Sarah | Jan 14, 2011 | 100 Words, Writing

Three forms of birth control didn’t stop conception.
Her parents didn’t know she was there, but she grew anyway.
4 weeks early she came.
Tiny, strong, pink.
The world’s happiest baby.
Torticollis.
Tightened limbs, stuck in the ‘airplane reflex’.
Tibial Torsion.
Dysphagia.
Hypotonia.
Cystic Fibrosis.
Her parents’ world filled with words, labels, fears, harsh realities. Pain wrapped around their hearts daily.
Then she’d smile.
Laugh.
Continue to grow.
Intelligent.
Happy.
Strong.
Already so many odds she’s pushed past. Nothing has stopped her yet. Nothing will stop her in the future.
She’s not afraid. Never was.
She’s got an invincible spirit.
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Note: This is about my own daughter. The minute I saw the word was invincible, I knew I had to write this. My heart wouldn’t let me walk away. Angel is our light…every day she gives us reasons to believe she’ll beat down every obstacle that comes her way.
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by Sarah | Jan 3, 2011 | Reviews
This post was supposed to be all tongue in cheek.
So jokingly desperate in a desire to keep the phone.
To express that our short 6 week “trial” period to review this fun bit of a toy.
For weeks on twitter (hashtag of #VZWhAPPy will show you everyone’s reactions to the phone) I was jokingly wondering if they noticed that I’d returned my crummy little LG in place of the Droid. How my husband took it to work and declared he didn’t like it…that it was more of a “toy” than a phone.
Unlike most of the world that became addicted to Angry Birds as they played with the phone…
I found a different game.
One filled with bubbles…and my frustration at trying to pop them all.
Bubble Blast became my biggest addiction. I played it constantly.
My son found a few games and kept trying to snatch away the Droid at every opportunity.
My Droid went with me EVERYWHERE.
I tweeted. I facebooked. I played. I used all the camera apps I could.
If I was to be honest, the one thing I didn’t do a lot on it was make phone calls.
My one problem (that probably would have been solved if I’d read the manual) is that I kept hanging up on people with my cheek, or muting them. Even when the screen went black, one touch of my cheek seemed to activate it. I couldn’t figure out how to stop that from happening.
But then, my world turned upside down.
We were given the Droid for the Holiday season…to help make it easier/happier.
I never knew the impact it would have when my baby ended up THERE.
I didn’t realize how cathartic it would be to be able to tweet as we waited for an admissions receptionist that my baby was being admitted.
To be able to text/tweet/facebook w/ a Droid when my regular phone had no service.
To be able to use the games to distract my baby from her procedures. From the WAIT TIMES for procedures.
To watch her face light up with delight and ask for the “black phone” and the Sponge Bob game…instead of crumbling into tears at the wait or the upcoming procedure.
To be able to pull it out quick and get some amazing footage of my baby singing Christmas carols in the middle of the night when she refused to sleep.
The Droid filled the empty spaces.
No hospital stay is fun.
But the Droid helped.
I never expected to WANT to give it back.
But I really never expected just HOW MUCH it would come to my aide in this time.
My Verizon upgrade isn’t until November. I will feel the loss of this phone on so many levels.
So many thanks to Cherie for hosting the event that brought us this phone.
To Verizon Wireless (Michelle) and Kyle Communications for sponsoring the event and our trial periods with these phones.
Overall the phone was a WONDERFUL joy to our family. The few problems I had (battery life @the end of my 6 weeks has been BAD…and the aforementioned hanging up problem) were far outweighed by the good and the happiness that was brought to us…the added peace it helped for us in the days in the hospital.
by Sarah | Nov 26, 2010 | All About Me, Writing
A couple of weeks ago when I asked you to ask me questions – my father in law piped up on facebook to ask me to answer how I came to love writing.
The answer is rooted in a long ago memory and a love of books.
I rarely remember nightmares. Maybe for a day or two, but so few actually stick with me.
For all of my 30+ years, I remember my very first nightmare.
I was still in a crib when I had it. I think I was two and a half at most. I woke up screaming.
Because in my dream I had torn my favorite book. Bongo.
I still remember the nightmare. I still remember the horror I felt over seeing my favorite book shredded in my crib. I treasured that book.
My dad to this day jokes that I was reading the Reader’s Digest cover to cover when I was three. He wasn’t far off, and it was about that age that I stole my first set of Little House books from my brother’s bookshelf (why in heaven he had them, I have no idea).
Eventually in middle school I got to the teenage angsty poetry phase which morphed into a stunning enjoyment of my English classes and writing. I loved the challenge of taking an assignment and doing something outside of the box. Then a college Creative Writing Course and then nothing.
For quite a few years I didn’t write.
A few years ago I wrote a story just for fun. I got some encouragement and eventually turned into something almost sell-able. Almost, because I’m still learning.
But I’m loving learning. Writing. Creating. Watching my characters come alive on the page. For about six months out of the year writing is what I spend a lot of time on. Sometimes to my husband’s chagrin because I’m up until all hours being driven by my characters to tell their story.
It’s exciting.
Reading. Writing.
Finding other worlds to live in. The past, the future, an alternate universe. An escape from the normal of everyday. The sometimes good, sometimes bad, always REAL world we live in.
by Sarah | Oct 30, 2010 | 100 Words, All About Me, Writing

This was what she’d wanted. There were no regrets. There never had been.
The choice was gone, the grip of menopause growing ever tighter. She dealt with the hot flashes, the swinging moods as well.
She focused on the joy of it. The relief of not dealing with pain and ick.
Then it hit. Unbidden. Unwelcome.
Tiny movements. Kicks. Little grasping fingers. Giggles. Smiles.
She’d had them. 3 times.
But they would never be hers to feel again. Not through any means but memory.
It was what she’d wanted.
So why did it hit her so hard now? Years later?
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I do the 100 word challenge regularly over at my writing blog. For some reason this week I was inspired twice over. This came out so I posted it over here.
In just a few weeks it will be the 4 year anniversary of my emergency hysterectomy. I never regretted my choice once it was made, even lying in the women’s center recovering, listening to the sound of newborn babies crying. Not once in the past four years. Until recently when I had a moment. A moment where regret hit me hard…before going away again.
Thus this post.
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Please, visit Velvet’s site to check out other more worthy entries…

by Sarah | Oct 30, 2010 | 100 Words, Writing

The earths’ parched lips gasped for refreshment. A drop of water to save its barren surface.
When the skies finally darkened, the world reached up to receive it. Leaves curving up toward the sky. Cracked blades of grass stirred in the gentle wind. Soothing drops fell. One. Two. Three. Soaking into the landscape, welcomed, invited.
Unbidden it turned. Pouring down so fast the world could not receive.
The winds whipped up tearing the fragile world.
Shattering dry, fragile limbs of trees.
Stirring up the dusty remains of the dry earth, spreading it far.
Devastation.
Tornado.
Mother Nature can be cruel.
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Please, visit Velvet’s site to check out other more worthy entries…

by Sarah | Oct 20, 2010 | Writing, writing tips
The first six months of 2010 I wrote over 500,000 words; over 200 chapters worth of stories.
The words poured out of me like water from a fountain. My story, while without an outline, was clear as could be. My characters spoke loudly, demanding and seeking their best outlet of expression.
I had the story I was writing, plus one other that was forming, plotting, growing in my head. The excitement was palpable. The itch to write…insatiable.
I drove my husband nuts with my hours upon hours on the computer writing page after page of a story he has no interest in reading (romance is so not in his realm of interest). At times the housework suffered for creative endeavors.
Then as happens every year, it happened again.
It disappeared.
Closing up shop for the winter. Preparing for the holidays. My ideas and words slow as the gorgeous colors of fall start to emerge.
Or sooner.
Perhaps as my first thought of Christmas tasks hit. I make some many gifts by hand, my creativity can only stretch so far.
So while I’m knitting, sewing, decorating, and baking in anticipation of the holidays…my characters and my writing muse go on vacation.
I imagine about now they’re drunk on tequila, soaking up the sun in some warmer client. While I work soft yarns between my fingers, my computers keys take a break. While I try to get in shape in time to ruin it with stacks of Christmas cookies, my muse puts her feet up in some foreign land and relaxes in preparation for the new year and the chance to strike with crazy ideas and plots.
This is why I no longer do NaNo…after failing for 3 years straight I realized November is not the time for me to try to write. My mind is elsewhere, my creative urges turning toward the holiday season.
I will continue with my challenges, and try to remain present here, but I learned long ago to flow with my muse. If I force out the writing, I hate it.
I look forward to the spring, when the ghost town that is my imagination sparks back to life. When characters start yelling at me again, demanding to be heard. When my next story faces the blank sheet in front me and pours forth.
Until then…100 words, and 15 words at a time, I will keep my writing spirit alive; as well as this blog. Leaving more time to devote to other endeavors. Nothing will be forced, and the joy will be greater.