Tag Archives: Books

The Dual Nature of Silence in Writing

It’s in the quietest moments that writing finds me. Once I begin, everything else disappears. I forget about the laundry, the food in the oven, and the setting sun beyond my window. The words cannot leave my fingers fast enough. Pages fill as my mind races to capture each thought before it slips away. The obsession can last for hours or days. I forget to stand, to eat, or even to drink, resentful of any interruption that forces me to serve the needs of my body over the demands of my imagination.

Not every day unfolds this way. Some days, I struggle to find a single sentence of meaning for my characters. They sit silently on the page, waiting for a conversation neither of us seems able to begin. The blinking cursor becomes an act of quiet defiance, marking the passage of time while my words refuse to take shape or define the characters on the page that I can see in my mind.

The longer you practice as a writer, the more you realize that silence is your companion and adversary, depending on the day. Sometimes it serves as a source of inspiration that fills the blanks, and the next day, an emptiness that tests the resolve to keep writing.

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Filed under On Writing, Prose

Beta Readers Wanted for Upcoming Novel

“You’re not coming back this time are you?” Vernie whispered. 

Looking through dirty car windows out over the cut fields around the bar left her no real idea where they were. She thought about how many hours they spent waiting on their mother. Waiting for her to come. Waiting on her to find food. Waiting on her to find a place to stay. Waiting for her to figure out how to be a mother.  Vernie doodled circles around the word –WAITING– on the notebook over and over.

Vernelle’s anger grew as she rolled the corner pages on the notebook in her right hand and started clicking her ink pen. The nervous energy coiling in her gut needed an escape, but there was nowhere for it to go. The cotton fields were empty on one side and rocky ground and dead grass sparkled with a light frost.  They had been here all night, tucked into the shadows behind the bar, parked just far enough back to go unnoticed. Esther had said it would only be one shift, just long enough to earn some tips and get them a room in the next town. Just a few hours. Just until morning.

That had been before the rain started. Before the temperature dropped. Before the sky began to lighten into the dull gray of a morning that came without answers. The rusted old car had become a cocoon of not knowing, of stretching time thin until it almost disappeared behind the permanent musty smell of rust and greasy take out bags.

Vernelle tightened her thin hoodie around her shoulders, pulling the frayed sleeves over her fists. Her sisters were huddled under a scratchy, dirty wool blanket on the vinyl green seat, their small bodies curled into each other for warmth. Roz, still lost in the kind of make-believe world that hunger and exhaustion hadn’t yet stolen from her, murmured something under her breath. Little Kit didn’t move as she slept. Not unusual. She never did,  always hiding, playing “statue” and blending into her surroundings to stay unnoticed. 

“Shit.” Vernie said.

She hadn’t meant to say it loud. Her voice, sharper than she intended, cut through the quiet. But neither of her sisters stirred, thank God. Like God cared she thought.

This is an excerpt from a new youth novel called “Rules of the Road”. Beta readers should send a message to be included on a mailing list for beta readers for Summer 2025. The first 20 requests will get a link to the ebook before release.

Thanks for your support!

Sherry

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