Violet Vines

Violet Vines

            Once upon a time there was a house, a leaf and a gambler.  The house had the unfortunate role of being the gambler’s home, a fate which the house really never wanted in its life.  The house, who was old enough to have a name was almost entirely ignored by the gambler.  While this wouldn’t bother most houses, this house was proud and wanted the gambler, whose name was John, to acknowledge that this old fancy house where John was lucky enough to reside in was actually named Violet Vines.  Not even the original owners of this house could tell you why their house had such an odd name, but whatever the cause the old Victorian, was a faded purple and most often the house itself felt this had something to do with its name. 

            Now the house did not mind its odd name, instead it was more proud of the name because of its uniqueness.  This was also one of the many reasons which caused the house to be bothered by the gambling man, with the boring name of John to have taken up residence inside her walls.  Violet wanted the person who resided in her to be as interesting as the name which she was given, and in her whole existence there had only been one resident with that uniqueness.

            The resident had been there before gambling John showed up to dampen Violet’s spirits.  It had actually been uninvited, but this resident was different it wasn’t human or animal, but instead of all the possibilities for a resident this one was a leaf.  It was a large leaf, with brilliant color, which made Violet think it held some magical properties. 

            The leaf had hitched a ride on the backpack of a child who once lived inside Violet’s walls, and when the child discovered the leaf he was also convinced of its invisible magical properties.  Violet had never seen a leaf of its kind and was itching from the moment of its arrival to talk to and get to know the leaf.

            Large and shimmery the leaf was placed on a shelf in the boy’s room, and despite his initial interest the leaf was soon forgotten, but not by Violet.  The good thing about a house wanting to have a conversation with a leaf is that since most houses have a wooden structure, and Violet was no different, they share a common language.  So every day when the human residents of Violet Vines left for their lives outside the house, Violet began to speak with the leaf.

            At first the leaf was shy.  Violet was surprised by this since it had entered her walls with such boldness that she thought it would have been willing to speak to anyone he could.  Though after a few days of coaxing it out Violet learned the leaf’s name, Mr. Cory Young.  The fact that the leaf had both a first and last name impressed the house and made her even more respectful of her new resident.

            Over time their friendship grew and Violet and Mr. Young had become the closest of friends.  And although Mr. Young had started to wither a bit with age Violet had no thought in the mind that he would ever leave.  Until the boy left for college.

            When the boy left to further his education he rediscovered his fascinating leaf and decided to take it with him.  He pressed it in a book, packed it away and left the house.  Violet was then left alone with nobody to talk to within her walls and only a few rose bushes and vines on her walls to speak with.  With time Violet became bitter and proud, but never forgot her friend, and wished with each passing day for him to return home.

            Many years later the boy returned to Violet Vines.  His parents had passed on and left him the old house.  He had wasted his education and lost most of his money in the gambling halls playing poker.  But most importantly he had forgotten to bring Mr. Young home with him when he returned.  This was the main reason why Violet hated John so much.  As a boy he would write on her walls and as a man he never cleaned her halls, but most of all he had lost her best friend in the world.

            One day however, John decided to go through the boxes he had sent home after his school years.  There in one of the boxes was the book in which Mr. Young had been pressed and preserved.  He was happy at having found what he regarded as his good luck charm and placed the leaf in a case to be displayed in the house. 

            Violet noticed the change immediately.  Her friend had returned and John seemed to start to care about things again.  He quit gambling, found a job, and cleaned Violet Vines for the first time in years.  He made repairs and gave her fresh paint.  This would been enough to cheer up Violet, but now she had her old friend back.

            They spent all day talking while John was out of the house.  And as the days turned to years John married and had children.  But Mr. Young had started to fade away.  They all knew the leaf would be with them for a very short amount of time after this, and John worried that his luck would again change if he lost his precious leaf.  Violet had the same worry in her mind.

            Then as Johns oldest son came home from school one day, the house, the gambler, and the leaf all noticed something unexpected.  There on the boys backpack was a younger version of Mr. Young.  John immediately took the new precious leaf and placed it with its uncle.  There Mr. Young taught the new leaf all his secrets, Violet taught him all her history, and with this knowledge the leaf bestowed luck on the entire household.


Chaotic Shiny

So I have recently started a writing night with a good friend, and we have decided to write fiction stories using crazy prompts from the site Chaotic Shiny.  This is a great and fun site for any writer to check out.  It also might be helpful for any English teachers out there who wish to challenge their students to be creative with odd prompts.


I hope you enjoy these new stories.

Seriously Frustrating

Today I decided it was time to go back and work on my novel.  I had put it aside for several years, unintentionally, and recently felt the need to finish the thing.  I thought I had the whole thing backed up on my laptop.  Upon opening the file I discovered that not only is it only part of the story about 30,000 words are missing as well as 3 and 1/2 chapters.  This is enough to make any writer feel like smashing their expensive writing technology, instead I decided that if I couldn’t work on the novel I would instead write about the fact that I can’t work on my novel.

The biggest problem with such a huge chuck of my story being missing, isn’t even that the words are gone, but now I have to try to remember what I wrote.  This is made more difficult by the fact that I wrote these pages over a year ago.  I wouldn’t care so much if I hadn’t been so close to finishing the whole thing, but I was very close to the end and now it is like having to start from scratch.  Which might not be the worst thing to have to do, but it makes for a very frustrating end to a day, which had started out with so much promise.

Now I will just have to hope that my good friend has it saved somewhere on her computer, or flash drives.  Otherwise, who knows what will happen to my characters.  I don’t want to just leave them stranded in the ether with no way to complete their story.  Grrr, this is when I wish I had used a typewriter, or just plan old pen and paper.

Okay, I am officially done with my crazy rant of the day.