Random Thoughts

    Okay, I've been busy, preoccupied, and maybe a bit lazy lately. Hence, my absence. I'm hoping to get back on track soon with a Book Review Marathon. It will be featuring P.D. Atkerson's own Simon Lee series. I've read nearly all of them but have only reviewed two, so I'm hoping this will help me get a bit more consistent with my posts.

   By the way, I'm going to be absent almost all of next month, so any comments won't be published until I get back. Just a note.

   Also, you might be seeing a bit about some not-so-new WIPs I haven't mentioned yet. 

   I'd make this post drag on longer for the sake of it, but I haven't got much else to say for now. 

   

   

  

The Writerly Sibling Tag

   Ahhh-kay, so . . . never done this tag before, and I'm not sure whether I'll be able to finish all the questions very easily, but I'll do my best!

Rule One: Thank the blogger who tagged you & provide a link to their post. That would be Abby. She took it from Katja, who took it from someone else who . . . yeah, anyway . . . thanks, Abby!

Rule Two: Answer the inquiries, including any ones added by means of rule six. 

Rule Three: Always use your own characters. No exception, unless you don't actually have sibling characters (in which case you need to go write up some) or you don't write (in which case you need to start ASAP).

Rule Four: Tag three other bloggers.

Rule Five: If you happen to have any siblings who blog, they are automatically tagged & cannot count towards your three.

Rule Six: Add one question or prompt to the list of questions the person before you answered related to siblings &/or characters. Answer the question, and provide a list of all the questions that you have answered so far.

Rule Seven: Close out the post making some statement or other glorifying the King of Kings.

   And now onto the questions.

   Name the most annoying sibling character in any of your stories (either annoying to you as the author or to any other characters).

   Oh no. Annoying, huh? Well, well. Hmm. Now that I really think about it, this is hard! I guess the only "annoying sibling" characters I tend to write I secretly adore because they're really awesome inside. Most of the truly obnoxious characters are loners and don't have siblings (as far as I know). Okay, let's go with Evelynn from my back-burner story In Christ Alone. She's actually the main character. She's kind of abrupt, and practically worships her little sister to the point of becoming irksome.

   Name the most caring sibling character in any of your stories.

   Ye-e-esss! Okay, I'm going to cheat just a little and say Millie from Millie's Miracle. She technically isn't adopted into the Giles family, nor is she their blood relative in any way, but she lives with them and acts like a sibling to Marie and Lois. Oh, I love her! Millie has such a huge heart and is always wanting to help others, and . . . oh, she's the best!

   Name the most entertaining sibling character in any of your stories.

   My sweet little Jimmy! He's the main character from Going Ballistic. He is such a fun character to write!! I just love him; he's the over-emphasized, even-more-dramatic boy version of a little me! Always overthinking things; constantly getting hyped up over something that seems like a dot-sized issue to everyone else. I'm not as dramatic as he is, for sure, but I can relate to a lot of his personality. He's a delightfully hilarious pessimist! 

   Name a siblings character who was inspired in some way by an actual sibling.

   Ahh, yes. Emm from Going Ballistic has a lot in common with my youngest real-life sister. Very girly and kind of fluttery, but is really sweet under it all.  

   Name the largest character family (talking family, not family tree) in any of you stories.

   Oh my. I have some stories from wa-a-ay back when I wrote those multiple paragraph chapters in which I gave my MC a 15+ biological family. I have no clue what they were called though (those stories are probably sitting in some old partially-demolished notebook somewhere), so I'll go with all my more recent stories. And of them, apparently most of my MCs don't have any set number of siblings yet. So, I'm going to "cheat" again . . . Margaret from The Prestigious Fugitive acts as a big sister to a whole orphanage of children (she's the oldest "child" there). How's that for a family??

   Provide one to three excerpts from your sibling characters' dialogue from any of your stories.

   Goody! Here you go!

   A moment later, with her legs securely bound by the fluttery ribbons, Emm turned her attention to her second present. She grabbed it and peeked at the label on the top. Then she turned her smile to me. “This is from you?”

   My mouth was so dry by this time that I couldn’t have said anything even if I wanted to. I just nodded and watched anxiously as she began obliterating the wrapping. When she reached the flaps and began pulling them apart, I sucked in a sharp breath and awaited her reaction on pins and needles.

   Emm puffed out a small sigh and stared down into the box. A strange look crossed her face. Through my nervous eyes, it looked as if she was about to laugh. Then she reached down into the box and began lifting my gift out of it.

   I bit my tongue and gaped at her. Please like it, please like it, please like it!

   A sudden giggle burst from Emm as she set the music box down onto the table and caressed the top of it. The lid was adorned with a meadow scene, complete with bunnies, wildflowers, and a fawn. Emm lifted it and gasped. Inside was a tiny white bunny that was sitting back on its haunches with its tiny pink nose stuck into the air. 

   Emm lifted her shining eyes to mine. “How do I make it go?” She asked eagerly.

   I leaned across the table and tapped the lower backside of the music box with my finger. “Turn this knob.”

   Emm obediently began twisting the oval knob. When she heard the little clicking sound, she let go. In response, a soft melody poured from the body of the box, and the upright bunny began turning round and round. My little sister listened, eyes bulging, and her fingers began stroking the twirling rabbit’s head.

   When the last strains of the lullaby faded away, she slowly raised her head and cocked an eyebrow. For one horrible second, it looked like she was about to roll her eyes.

   My heart sank to my toes. I knew I should’ve gotten that princess music box instead.

   Then I got the surprise of my life. Emm slipped out of her seat and threw her arms around my neck. 

   Heat crept up into my neck and exploded in my cheeks. My little sister rarely showed such affection to me. I guess I picked the right present.

~Going Ballistic

  “Lois! Come back!” Millie choked out, stumbling her way as fast as she could toward the younger girl. 

   Lois darted behind a tree.

   Millie slowed her steps when she came to the trunk where she knew Lois was hiding. “Lois?” A sharp intake of breath sounded from it. She rounded the tree and stopped short. 

   Lois was sitting with her back to the rough bark. Her face was buried in her knees, which she’d drawn up to her chest. A strangled whimpering sound accompanied the scrunch-crunch of the snow as she slowly rocked back and forth. 

   Millie dropped gently to the ground next to her, at a loss for words. Lois crying? Millie had not seen Lois shed a tear a day in her life, and Millie had been with them for four years. Unsure of what to do, she simply sat back against the tree and put a hand on Lois’s shoulder. Just then, two words burst unexpectedly from her. “I’m sorry.”

   Lois lifted her tear-streaked face and drew her brows together in confusion. She eyed Millie for a moment, as if trying to process what the older girl had just said. 

   Then Millie got the surprise of her life. Even the shock she’d felt as a tiny girl when seeing other poor girls getting carted from the orphanage in little wooden boxes could not be compared to this. Lois flung her arms around Millie’s neck, buried her head in Millie’s shoulder, and burst into shuddering sobs.

   Once the initial shock had worn off, Millie drew her arms tight around Lois and held her close. She felt the violent shivering of Lois’s shoulders and the frantic fluttering of Lois’s heart. A sudden burst of insight made Millie squeeze Lois tighter. 

   Lois wasn’t much younger than Millie, but all she’d known was a father that was hardly ever home and a mother who cared more for her own comfort than for her own kin. Her little sister was too young to truly understand her, and the one person she might confide in thought her cruel.

   She thinks I despise her. The thought made Millie’s stomach clench in remorse. Do I? She bit her lip and rested her chin on the top of Lois’s head. No. No, I don’t. I simply find her difficult. But maybe . . . maybe deep down, she feels lonely and wronged and unloved. Just like . . . Before she knew what she was doing, she dropped a kiss onto Lois’s blond hair. Just like me!

~Millie's Miracle

Name three published books which have an amazing portrayal of siblings or family.

-Viking Quest Series by Lois Walfrid Johnson. All these books show a strong bond between siblings and parents . . . especially between Bree and Dev. 

-By Paths Unknown by Rebekah A. Morris. This one also is amazing!

-Little Women by Louisa May Alcott. You all probably know why this is in the list. 

   Name another author's character family that you wouldn't mind jumping into.

   Ooohhh. I don't know. Maybe the O'Tooles, from the Viking Quest series. I know, they've been through a lot and have lost siblings and have regained siblings over the years. Yes, they have lost a lot to the Vikings. But their love for each other as a family is even stronger because of it, I think. 

   Provide an excerpt of sibling drama or camaraderie from any title (though be sure to credit it).

It's not necessarily drama, but it involves a brother and sister (Daniel and Leah), so it counts! 

   Presently they reached the village. Outside his own door Daniel knocked and called out, and presently the bolt inside was quietly drawn back. As Daniel pushed open the door, Thacia stood back.

   "I have brought a friend of yours with me," Daniel announced.

   Leah, from the corner where she had retreated at the first glimpse of an unfamiliar figure, stared out into the road. Then her face lighted. "Thacia!" she cried. "Why are you dressed in Joel's clothes?"

   Thacia came into the room laughing and pushing back the hot turban with relief. "It's lucky everyone doesn't have your sharp eyes," she said. "You won't give me away, will you? It's a--a sort of game we're playing."

   Leah came forward slowly. "Daniel never plays games," she said soberly.

   "What a pity," said Thacia lightly. "Joel and I pretend all sorts of things. But I'll tell you a secret. Your brother does know how to smile. Quite nicely, actually. He doesn't always hide behind that fearful scowl."

   Unexpectedly, Leah giggled, and then both girls were laughing. Scowling more fiercely than ever, Daniel stamped into his shop. But he left the door open behind him.

~The Bronze Bow by Elizabeth George Speare

   Name two characters from two unrelated books that you feel would make for great literary siblings (whether in terms of getting along, or being a constant head-to-head combat).

   Haha! I say stick Anne Shirley with Jo March and see how they do! They've always struck me as very similar. (Both dreamy, both writers, both hot-tempered . . . shall I go on?)

   What sibling trope would you like to write in the future?

   One sibling who teases the other all the time but end up giving their life for their sibling (we'll see whether I make this literal or figurative!).

   Which of your own sibling groups would you love to join?

   I'll be the big sister to Millie, Lois, and Marie! I love 'em all.

   If you could adopt only one of your fictional siblings as your own sibling, who would it be?

   Marie from Millie's Miracle. I'm sorry, but I want to baby her so badly! She's one of the cutest little marshmallows ever!

   What fictional character most reminds you of yourself as a sibling?

   Ha. Ha. Ha. I'm pretty much a mixture of Melinda and Mitch from all the Circle C books.

   Have you written any sibling dialogue based on a dialogue you've had with your own siblings? If so, share it!

   I'm not sure. I may have done so once upon a time, but I don't remember it. Sorry!

   Time to pick favorites; which of your sibling families is your favorite?

   Kaylee and Gillian from a WIP of mine (unofficially titled Kaylee Monroe). They're such good friends, even if they're not . . . actually . . . totally siblings. That's all I'll say. It's complicated.

   Out of all the sibling friendships you've read/written, which sibling duo has the most mismatched personalities?

   That would probably be Jo and Beth from Little Women. Beth is sweet, quiet, shy, and gentle . . . all of which, let's face it, Jo is not.

   I tag: Rebekah, Heidi, Abigail, and anyone-else-who-wants-to-do-it. 

   Here's the list of rules (with mine added to it):

1. Name the most annoying sibling character in any of your stories (either annoying to you as the author or to any other characters).

2. Name the most caring sibling character in any of your stories.

3. Name the most entertaining sibling character in any of your stories.

4. Name a sibling character who was inspired in some way by an actual sibling.

5. Name the largest character family (talking family, not family tree) in any of your stories.

6. Provide one to three excerpts from your sibling characters’ dialoge from any of your stories.

7. Name three published books which have an amazing portrayal of siblings or family.

8. Name another author’s character family that you wouldn’t mind jumping into.

9. Provide an excerpt of sibling drama or camaraderie from any title (though be sure to credit it)

10. Name two characters from two unrelated books that you feel would make for great literary siblings (whether in terms of getting along, or being a constant head-to-head combat).

11. What sibling trope would you like to write in the future?

12. Which of your own sibling groups would you love to join?

13. If you could adopt only one of your fictional siblings as your own sibling, who would it be?

14. What fictional character most reminds you of yourself as a sibling?

15. Have you written any sibling dialogue based on a dialogue you had with your own siblings? If so, share it! 

16. Time to pick favorites; which of your sibling families is your favorite?

17. Out of all the sibling friendships you've read/written, which sibling duo has the most mismatched personalities?

   And for rule seven . . . so much of this fun tag wouldn't have been possible had God not made me who I am, gave me my love for writing, placed me in the family that he did, and inspired me to write families that love and care for each other. He's the Ultimate Writer. He wrote the Book that tells the story of the history of the universe, from the time it was created until the time when it will be destroyed and then re-created as perfection again. And the amazing thing is, we don't have to wonder whether God's Book is true -- it is! My goodness, I know some futuristic fictional books that are pretty neat, but God's book is a spot-on, futuristic non-fiction piece of literary art! 

   

Happy New Year!

    A-a-and my blog vacation's over! I want to wish you all a very Happy New Year! I have a few announcements and random notes.

   First off, if you didn't notice it already, I've got a few new pages up there just below the header. Just pointing it out. ;)

    Secondly, I am going to attempt to put up more snippets and the like from my stories this coming year. I can't promise anything, but I mi-i-i-ight even publish my first book in 2021! Obviously, my little flickering hope to finish and publish Millie's Miracle by this last Christmas got extinguished, but now I'm onto a goal to get it done by next Christmas. Plenty of time, so if I still don't get it done next year, any excuses I might give will be pitifully irrelevant. And you can hold me to this if you want. ;)

   Third, I want to point out a new work-in-progress! Yes, I know; I shouldn't keep abandoning my "old" works for any new idea that pops into my brain. But just to let you know, that's precisely what I do. Not the abandoning part, though . . . I mean, I still have my other stories around. They're just, uh, in storage. Now that I've pled my defense, I will move onto the story! It's called Just Another Autumn. I'm really enjoying this story. It's fun, just a bit dramatic, has Christian values, and maybe has a good dash of sarcasm-seasoning thrown in. ;) I kind of write the type of stuff I like to read, so this is very fun. Though I must admit that I'm not very kind to my characters. Why? Oh, because it's so much more enjoyable to throw them headlong into a dramatic and/or distressing situation so that they will have a chance to grow/learn/maybe-have-a-life-changing-experience. This time, in this story, it has to do with a concussion and a chance meeting. I'm not going to give away any more (yet). Go on over to my works-in-progress page to see the collage I made for it!

   And one more little note. I put up a few more things on my "Behind the Blogger" page. :)

   Happy New Year and God Bless!

Felines & Photos

    Hello again, and many apologies for the temporary desertion. I've no excuse you probably haven't already guessed, so I won't even bother. :) On with the post!

   First of all, if you've read my profile or my behind-the-blogger page, or you know my personally, then you have got a pretty good grasp of the fact that I'm an ailurophile. That means simply that I am a cat-lover. (I discovered this new word just today and am determined to add it to my mental dictionary . . . if I can learn how to pronounce it.) This means that if you have the same personality trait, this post is just for you! If you despise cats or simply have no real fondness for them, please just bear with me here. I have a special announcement not involving felines whatsoever coming up.

   As I was lounging comfortably on the couch some time ago, I was joined by our affectionate purr-motor . . . well, one of them, anyway. She settled down on my lap and I thought it was too sweet not to share. 

 "Oh hello." *sniff sniff*

                     And one of our other kitties.                 

   And now for the aforementioned announcement. For those of you who would, head on over to my Works-in-Progress page and see the brand-new photo collage I've made for Millie's Miracle. I am very excited about this. No one told me making photo collages for books would be so fun!

Merry, merry, merry, merry Autumn!

    Well, it's that time of year again. The time when I refuse to begin the Christmas season until after Thanksgiving . . . bu-u-u-ut Christmas songs get stuck in my head just the same and I find myself singing them aloud (even if I'm not meaning to). We'll see how long my resistance lasts. :) 

   I'm going to make an announcement now, even if Thanksgiving still isn't over. I'm hoping to begin a chain of Christmas-y posts starting at the beginning of December. In case I haven't made it very obvious, I love the Christmas season. So I'm going to do my best to make my first blogging Christmas a holly jolly one, with plenty of fun pictures, book mentions, and maybe some tags and the like. Just giving you fair warning. :)

   And now onto recent events. First, I have made a "works-in-progress" page for my blog, which you can reference if I am talking enthusiastically about a book you've never heard of. It might very well be one of my WIPs. And speaking of works-in-progress, I am going to mention that Millie's Miracle, which I mentioned a few blog posts previous, is going to undergo a slight change. It has evolved from "short story" to "novelette." The stubborn thing is barely written and it has almost surpassed the general word count for short stories (7,500 words or less). So there goes my attempt to write something brief. Don't worry, though; I've got yet another idea for a different short story. I'll just have to see if I can keep it short enough to label it that. :D

  Secondly, I may or may not be very diligent in posting in this month. For some reason, I have either gotten lazy or had a "blogging block." (Instead of writer's block.) However, I will try to do my best to keep you informed of any notable happenings. I have a few pictures to share in the next few weeks. Autumn-y pictures. *wink*

Changes and a Special Surprise

    I'm back! And I believe an apology for my absence is in order. I meant to post, but life happened, and I'm sure all of us know how that is. :) But this also means I've stockpiled on things to post about! So this time, I have at least three things to mention. Hang tight!

   Ah, yes, an announcement first. As you can see, I've made a change to my blog. The new header!! As a warning, I may or may not keep the background as it is. I'm still deciding. For now, it'll stay, but I'm not promising that you will find the background the same when you next visit. That old header was sweet, but I really like the new one myself, so I think I'll keep it. :) Do you like it? Also, I have made a "Behind the Blogger" page where you can see more information about me. I hope to put up a page about my works-in-progress, but that'll take a little more work, so bear with me. 

   And now for the surprise! I have begun my graphic design journey, which means . . . I get to make my own book covers! *tosses confetti every which way* I'm excited about this because I delight in fiddling with photos and fonts and shading to make it look just right. So once I finally decide I am satisfied with the cover for it, I may end up doing a book cover reveal for a new Christmas short story I'm working on, called Millie's Miracle. I am really liking how this story's turning out, and I have a secret hope (which isn't secret anymore, since I'm sharing it with you) that I might be able to finish, edit, and publish it by this Christmas! I haven't gotten a single book published yet, so that would be huge for me. I'll just work on it and see where the Lord leads.

   I know this is a short post, but I am cutting it short because I have other things I want to mention at a later date.

WARNING: This blog is technically still under construction, so if you see things disappear, reappear, or move someplace else, that's why. :)

   

There Goes the Rain/ Going Ballistic Update

    Good afternoon, friends! I am pleased to report that sunshine still exists and that behind the clouds, the sun is shining; believe me even though you can't quite make it out. (Yes, that's from the song "Behind the Clouds.") While I do like rain, I enjoy the sight of sun peeking tentatively around the cloud's fluffy shoulder to reassure me it's still there. And guess what else? The sky's still blue! Eeks! The "nice" weather (top three pictures) can turn into "summer weather" (bottom three) very quickly indeed!

   Before

   and after.

And now about Going Ballistic. I've gotten people-- *ahem ahem* you know who you are --asking me to put up more of Going Ballistic. I'd been thinking I could quietly stop putting up more snippets, but when you faithful readers ask for more, I hate to refuse. So I will be putting up at least one more chapter . . . and maybe two . . . and maybe three, but no promises. I love it when you all love my stories. It's such an encouragement. So . . . keep your eyes open, and hopefully I'll have some snippets on here soon.

How's your weather? Does it look like autumn yet, or is summer being stubborn and hanging on as long as possible where you are?

Story Snippet #6

 So sorry it's taken so long for the second half of Chapter 3 to materialize on this blog. I'll probably have to stop putting up snippets of Going Ballistic sometime . . . or else, if and when I finish it, buying it won't be necessary cause you could read it for free off my blog. *grins and then winces* But it hasn't come to that yet. I can't very well stop in the middle of a chapter and not provide the ending. So . . . here's the rest, at long last. 

Previously:

Not that I could go anywhere, anyway. She’d given me the explicit order to remain in bed unless I needed to use the bathroom. That was fine with me. With how I felt, there was no way I was going to move around more than necessary. 

To be continued:

While Mom cleaned up the lightbulb’s remains, I stared up at the ceiling and wondered what would be the next victim of Ballistic’s destructive rampage. Whoever or whatever it was, I hoped it wouldn’t be me. I didn’t think I could bear waking up like that again and having to run down a dark hallway to--

   “Hey, Mom?”

   “Mmm-hmm?” She glanced up.

   I watched as she carefully picked up the largest shard and dropped it into a plastic bag. “Why was the hall so dark?”

   An unexpected smile curved Mom’s lips. “Because the light was off, Jimmy. Why?”

   I burrowed down into my sheet, suddenly feeling very embarrassed, now that I’d had a chance to think about my dramatic actions. “Uh, nothing,” I mumbled into my pillow. “It’s just that I couldn’t really see when I was going down the hallway.”

   I heard Mom’s light chuckle and felt her pat my back comfortingly. “It’s okay, honey. I turned it off because I hoped it would make it easier for you to sleep, without light shining through your door vent.”

   “Oh. Thanks.”

   It was getting way too hot under the sheets, so I pushed my covers off my head and peeked over the bed just in time to see Mom rise from her kneel and brush off her pants. 

   “I’m going to have to use the vacuum cleaner on the rest of this,” she told me, heading for the door. “I’ll be back.”

   I watched to make sure Mom closed the door before I relaxed into my memory foam mattress and let out a sigh of relief. If I saw Ballistic in my room again after what just happened, it would be too soon. Actually, if he ever went near me again, it would be too soon.

   By the time Mom came back, my head was pounding again and my face felt flushed. It didn’t help that the vacuum cleaner was not the quietest, and within a few minutes of listening to the constant rattling buzz, my headache had returned with a vengeance. 

   “Hey, Mom?” I asked, pushing my sheets down to my waist.

   She turned to me, lampshade in hand. “Yes, honey?”

   I twisted my neck around so that I was facing her. “My headache’s back.”

   “I’m sure it is,” Mom agreed, turning off the vacuum and coming over to me. She gently placed her hand on my neck. “Do you still feel hot, too?” When I nodded, she rose from the bed and began rearranging my sheets. “Make sure you drink enough water,” she reminded me, tilting her head in the direction of my nightstand.

   “Okay.” When she turned to leave, I suddenly felt an impulse to ask her the question that had been bothering ever since I’d poured out my complaints about Ballistic. “Mom?”

   She turned back to me. “Yes?”

   I hesitated. Now that I really thought about it, it seemed like a really silly question. One that I never would’ve doubted before Ballistic came. But I had to know. So I licked my lips and blurted out, “Mom, are you glad I’m your son?”

   She instantly walked over, sat down on my bed, and gave me a searching look. The why-would-you-ask-such-a-thing mom look. “Of course. Why would you think otherwise?”

   I squirmed under my sheets. It had been eating away at me ever since I saw the slight look of exasperation on her face when I came tearing down the hall this morning. “Well,” I murmured, heat rising in my cheeks, “I just thought-- I mean, I’m so-- silly. I know everyone else thinks I overreact about everything. I don’t know; I just wondered if . . . if you were glad to have me, instead of someone else who’s not, well, worried about everything.” 

   Mom drew a deep breath. “It is true that I don’t understand you all the time, to be honest. But honey, don’t you ever think that I don’t love you because you’re different. I love you because you are different. You are my little boy. While you do have some things you need to work on, I don’t expect you to be perfect. No one is.”

   I dropped my gaze to my bed covers. “Sure, but I feel like I’m a nuisance to you. Tell me the truth. Do you think I’m a nuisance?”

   Mom smiled at that. “Even if you are, just remember this: you’re my little nuisance. And I love you.” She leaned forward and gently pressed her lips to my burning forehead. “Now get some sleep, okay? We’ll talk more later.”

   I couldn’t stop the smile that curved my lips. “Okay. I love you, Mom.” 

   

Signed,

Martha

Story Snippet #5

   Going Ballistic is back! I've been working on it some more and enjoying it immensely. This is so fun to write! And my goodness, I did not expect it to be getting so dramatic. But it is, and I must say, it's been giving me plenty of laughable material. Hope you like it as much as I do!

To refresh your memory of what happened last, go to Story Snippet #4!

And now: 

Chapter Three

 I’ve never run as fast as I did in the next five seconds. I tore the monkey away from my neck, threw him onto the ground, and raced for the door, another desperate plea on my lips. “Help! Mom, Mom, Mom!” Flinging open the door, I stumbled blindly down the dark hallway. The shadows leapt out from their corners and seemed to smother me. I slowed my pace for just a second, wrinkling my brow in perplexity. Why on earth was it so dark?

    Hearing another monkey squeak from behind gave wings to my feet. Forgetting all about the fact that I could hardly see, I tore down the hall and into the kitchen, wailing. “Mo-om!” 

   Mom leapt up from where she sat lounging on the couch. “Good gracious, Jimmy! What on earth is wrong now?”

   “Balli-llistic,” I babbled, tumbling onto the couch next to her. “He’s after me!”

   Mom’s faint look of amusement was replaced by mild irritation when the monkey popped out of the hall, screeching. Emm had a firm hold on his tail and was trying to get him to calm down.

   “Emm, what are you doing?”

   Emm shot Mom a frustrated look. “Ballistic got away from me! I was trying to peek in at Jimmy to see if he was okay. I didn’t know Ballistic snuck in!”

   I curled up into a tight ball and glared at the horrible creature that had ruined my life. He was still squirming to get out of my little sister’s grasp. If looks could kill, Ballistic would have been dead within a millisecond. 

   Mom reached down and grabbed the monkey by the arm. Ignoring his vehement protests, she snatched him up and started down the hall with Emm trailing her.

   My muscles slowly began to relax, now that the imminent danger was past. I scooted up against the arm rest and laid my head against it. It was then that I realized how badly I’d been shaking. My whole body was quaking, and I felt as if someone had taken a hammer to my head. Tears sprang to my ears, but I stubbornly swiped them away. Don’t go crying like a baby.

    Within a minute, Mom was back. She settled herself on the cushion next to me and began to massage my back. “You okay?”

   “No,” I mumbled, turning my face away. I wanted to throw my arms around her neck and cry like I used to, but doing so would make me feel even worse. It would make me feel like I couldn’t handle my own emotions. 

   You can’t handle your own emotions, a small voice nagged me. I gritted my teeth and squeezed my eyelids shut. I felt the warm pressure of my mother’s hand on my arm.

   “Jimmy?”

   Finally I couldn’t take it anymore. I jerked upright and faced Mom. “I can’t do it.”

   “What, honey?”

   “I can’t get along with Ballistic. I’d rather die before welcoming such a horrid creature into our house. Not that I won’t die anyway, with how I’m feeling right now.” I half-expected Mom to scold me for having such a negative attitude, but she just smiled and wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

   “Jimmy, I’m not expecting you to love him right away. I’ll admit I am not too comfortable with the idea of having a monkey in the house, either. But your father thinks it’s all right, and just look how happy Emm is. Ballistic hasn’t ruined anything yet--”

   Except for my precious sleep . . oh, and that lamp that was on my nightstand, I remembered in dismay.

   “--and there is a chance he won’t. While this is certainly very strange, I don’t think it will be too terrible for us. Just try to get along with him for Emm’s sake, okay?”

   When I nodded, she gave me a one-armed hug. “Good. Now, let’s take a look at you. Running around like the house is on fire isn’t recommended for a person with a fever.”

   Mom was definitely right about that. My whole body ached, and a dull pain suddenly emerged from the depths of my brain and decided it was a great time to grace me with its presence. I hadn’t felt this terrible since the day I tried out a friend’s skateboard and had ended up nose diving into a cement slab. 

   Mom pressed the back of her hand against my forehead and clucked her tongue. “Well, you aren’t any better. Did you sleep at all?”

   “I had been.”

   She blew out a low sigh and rose from her seat. “Alright, back to bed with you. And this time, I’ll personally see to it that you aren’t disturbed.”

  

 A few minutes later, I found myself falling gratefully back into my jumbled mass of sheets. 

   Mom began to set the room to rights, fixing my sheets, adjusting the air conditioning, and making sure I had a tall glass of cool water within arm’s reach. She heaved a disappointed sigh when she saw my poor lamp. Crouching down, she examined it for any real damage. “So much for Ballistic not having ruined anything yet.”

   “Broken?” I asked.

   Mom nodded. “Just the light bulb, though. The lampshade is still fine. You stay right there; I’m going to clean up the shards.”

   Not that I could go anywhere, anyway. She’d given me the explicit order to remain in bed unless I needed to use the bathroom. That was fine with me. With how I felt, there was no way I was going to move around more than necessary. 

Signed,

Martha

Story Snippet #4

   And now the time has come for the last part of the last full chapter in Going Ballistic to be revealed. Alas, I have no other full chapters written as of yet, so this is the last I'll be sharing of this story for a bit. Don't worry, though, I'll find something else to post about. (Hmmm. How does a book series recommendation sound? Well, I'll think on it. Sounds like fun, and trust me, I've got plenty of good books to recommend!) Anyway, please enjoy this last Going Ballistic snippet.

Previously:

She returned holding a small red container. She pulled out a thin glass stick. “You need to take your temperature.” She handed the thermometer to me.

  I took it gingerly. Well, here goes.

To be continued:

   A few minutes later, the thermometer was back in Mom’s hands. Holding it up to the light, she examined it. Her eyebrow rose an inch and she turned to me with a slightly worried expression. “One hundred point nine degrees.” She looked at me searchingly. “Were you around anyone sick at school?”

   “I try not to be,” I said. “If they were, I didn’t know.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “Is one hundred point nine bad?”

   “Well, it’s enough for me to send you back to bed,” she replied, giving me a gentle push. “Go on then. I’ll be there in a bit.”

   I might feel lousy, but I don’t want to be cooped up in bed on a Saturday! I opened my mouth to protest, but then I heard Ballistic making noise in Emm’s bedroom doorway. Suddenly bed sounded like a wonderful safe haven. “Okay,” I agreed quickly, hurrying down the hall. 

   I passed Emm, who was standing in her doorway with Ballistic sitting on one shoulder. She took one look at me and asked, “What’s wrong, Jimmy?”

   I didn’t say anything. I just pressed myself up against the wall and squeezed past the two of them, avoiding the monkey in particular. When I reached my door, I swung it open and slipped inside. Not bothering to change my clothes, I fell into my bed. My head raged in protest when it smacked into the pillow. I winced and shifted so that I was lying on my side. The closet door loomed up in front of me. What if Emm came through the closet? I did not want some crazy animal screeching in my face when I woke up next. I felt terrible enough. 

   I eased myself out of bed and crept to the closet door. I moved my padded chair in front of it and returned to bed. The pounding in my head lessened a bit when it touched the pillow, and I instantly relaxed. Closing my eyes, I willed sleep to come and take me away . . . and hearing the far-away monkey sounds, I wished it would take Ballistic away too.

                 

                                     * * *

   A small clicking sound roused me from a deep and troubled sleep. I cracked an open and rolled onto my back. The noise ceased. 

   Puzzled, I rose up on one elbow and forced my other heavy eyelid open. Moving like that was a mistake, and I immediately began to pay for it with a twisting in my stomach and a throbbing between my eyes. Rubbing my forehead gently, I eased myself back down so that I was lying flat on my back once again. Letting out a sigh, I closed my eyes.

   The scratching sound that erupted a few seconds later was most definitely real. As sick as I was, I had assumed it was my imagination. But as I jerked upright and looked around frantically, I knew it was real. Someone was creeping around in my room.

   The noise stopped once again. This frightened me even more, as I swiveled my head in every direction, searching for the culprit. A feeling of dread rose in my throat and threatened to cut off my breath. I couldn’t see anyone!

   Finally I mustered up enough courage to speak. “Who’s there?” The question came out as a high, quivering squeak. When I received no response, I gingerly pushed myself up farther and began searching the ceiling. Maybe I was just hearing creaks from inside the attic. Maybe Dad was getting something from up there. That’s probably all it was. 

   It’s okay. You’re okay, I told myself, easing back under the covers. There’s no-

   Just then, my lamp flew off my nightstand and landed on the floor with a crash. Heart thumping, I tore off my covers and leapt from my bed. I winced as my bare feet touched the ground off balance, sending me tumbling to the ground. My whole body ached. It was as if someone had strapped me down to the road and had people step all over me. Groaning, I pushed myself up into a sitting position. Just above the spot where I had been laying only moments before, I could see a small dark something lurking on my shelf above my headboard. Because I couldn’t think straight, it cued all images of my childhood fears. Monsters that crept through my window and stole my prized baseball. Strange creatures that were full of foreign diseases. 

   Stop it! I mentally hissed. I didn’t want to feel like an overreacting baby, but honestly, I wanted my mother. My mother had always told me that my fears were only scary because I thought of them that way. I was the one who made them frightening. So I stood up on my wobbly legs and faced the creature boldly. “What-”

   The next second, the thing launched itself off my shelf, revealing its true monkey colors. Letting out a happy screech, it reached out its arms toward me. 

   But Ballistic’s screech was drowned out by another sound. It only took me about two seconds to figure out what the louder, bone-chilling scream was coming from. And as the monkey reached me and threw his long, hairy arms around my neck, the horrifying sound rose to become one of the most high-pitched shrieks I’ve ever heard come from my own mouth. 

   “Mom!”

Signed,

Martha