#16 Synchronicity

 I Love Fun Surprises!

The “Writing My Future” group is still functioning; you know–the experiment I introduced you to in Post #1? The members are mostly coming to hear me read another chapter of The Potluck, however. At one meeting a member hands me a book written by a friend of hers, Nina Amir. The name of the book is How to Blog a Book.

I page through it and see it is about blogging a non-fiction book, and I idly wonder if one could blog a novel. I feel a spark of excitement. It feels like synchronicity, that right brain experience of unexpected coincidences pointing to a path. I love out-of-the box ways of doing things. Writing my future has taken a new twist!

Long story short, in the next few days I read the book from cover to cover and come up with the idea for this blog: a non-fiction framework about a new way of writing, with an embedded excerpt of fiction!

I want to tell you so much more, but it will have to wait because I am running of words (the blog book says a post should be no more than 500 and ideally about 250), and I need to save some for the excerpt from Chapter 4, so here’s the review for those who can’t remember: you have met Joe and Ada, and I left you with Renee gazing across the table at the girl with the cigarette and cleavage.

Renee glanced at the name cards on her own left and right: Abel Alderman and Philip Ossifer. The two gentlemen soon found their places and took their seats as well. Abel was small and wizened, but his eyes were lively, as was his smile. Squinting at her name card he squeaked, “Great to meet you, Renee.”

Philip had a long mangy beard flecked with gray. His attire reflected a carelessness that verged on the unkempt: tweed jacket with frayed suede patches on the elbows, a jaunty but faded brown cap, which he removed as he seated himself, revealing a few strands of greasy hair stretched across a balding pate. Renee noticed that his fingernails were dirty. He nodded in her direction, but did not introduce himself.

Meanwhile, across the table two men took their seats on either side of Miss Scarlett Lips. The one to her right and directly across from Renee was cleanly shaven and impeccably tailored in Brooks Brothers. The sleeves of his white shirt were fastened with diamond cuff links, and his watch was a Hublot. How does he fit into this group? Renee wondered. On the girl’s left, at the foot end of the long side of the table, was a dark-skinned athletic-looking fellow wearing a long black robe.

“This has to be a costume party,” she remarked to herself. “How unkind of Monty not to warn me!”


Ah! I made it! 482 words!

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