Sunday, July 31, 2022

Callie Ch 4 by Leanne Dyck (inspired the writing life) "Finding Callie"

 Chapter Three: Aurora hears a voice telling her a story. Where do you think the voice is coming from? Why do you think the voice has chosen Aurora?

                                                                    photo by ldyck

Callie

Chapter Four

The following morning, I slipped the necklace around my neck, hopeful that it would bring me luck on my job hunt. Between interviews, I made time to visit my local library.

A gentle spring breeze escorted me through the electronic doors. Inside fluorescent lights met the flash of computer screens, and book spines painted the walls with colour.

At a wall of bookshelves, a bearded man wearing khaki shorts with wool socks in well-worn hiking boots knelt to claim a copy of Finding the Mother Tree by Suzanne Simard

Turning left, I entered an area dominated by several rows of cubicles. Air vibrated with the click of fingers on keyboards. I found an unoccupied computer, logged onto a search engine, and typed ‘image: two snakes twisted around a pin’.

‘The Asclepius, Calliope’s symbol, is often confused with the symbol for the medical profession... Calliope it the eldest of the Greek Muses. She presides over eloquence and epic poetry.’

At the end of the erudite article, I was tempted to comment, "And Callie loves to entertain her victims with stories, far too late at night."

On the way out of the library, I passed a group of teenagers gathered around a rectangular table. One of them, in a denim button-down under a pink cable cardigan, read aloud to the others from a black binder.

Her First Crush

(click the link to listen and read this story)

When she was done reading, her friends giggled, and she blushed. She adjusted the pendant that hung from her necklace before she closed her binder.

I feigned interest in a box of fifty-cent paperbacks so I could continue to listen.

A muddle of chatter spread over the table. All grew quiet when a girl dressed in black, sitting on the opposite side of the table, pulled a piece of paper out of the back pocket of her jeans. One hand held onto the pendant on her necklace as she read.

Be Gentle

(click the link to listen and read this story)


I headed for the door before they caught me standing there. As I passed the table, I noticed that every one of the girls wore a necklace with the pendant. Did Callie visit all of them? 


 So the necklace is a vessel in which Calliope, a Greek Muse, communicates with writers. Knowing this, would you wear the necklace? What does Aurora do? 

Read Chapter Five




Are you following me?



     photo by ldyck

Sharing my author journey...

I believe that we--authors and publishers and librarians and...--are all in this publishing

Sunday, July 24, 2022

Callie Ch 3 by Leanne Dyck (inspired by the writing life) "The Voice"

 Chapter Two: Why did the bookseller give Aurora that necklace? Why did he insist she take it? What is the strangest gift you've been given? Read chapter three...

Callie

photo by ldyck

Chapter Three

 That night, outside my apartment building, traffic roared like ocean waves with a steady swish, swish, swish. 

Inside? Inside all was quiet, until...

Loving Lisa

It's hard to breathe, think, move. It feels like one of my vital organs is missing—a liver, a kidney, a lung, my heart.

I didn't have a TV or radio. My computer wasn't on. Still, I heard the voice...

I knew it would help if I could cry, but I'm beyond tears. I'm numb—my brain's valiant effort to protect me from the truth.

But what is the truth?

I roll the gold band around and around on my ring finger. I walk over to the fireplace and take our wedding photo off the mantel.

Who is this young couple? They look so happy, so much in love—joined together by a promise. Has he broken that promise?

I figured that the voice must have been coming from one of the neighbouring apartments. I stepped out into the corridor. Though I listened carefully, I couldn't hear a thing.

I returned to my apartment and...

I replace the photo and find myself in the kitchen. Coffee mug in hand, I sit at the table and peer out the window to where his car should be.

I don't want to think I feel abandoned. I feel the distance between us.

But we've always been of different worlds. Me constantly in my head—analyzing, dissecting, categorizing, creating. I sit at my easel for hours. Paint splashes across the white canvas. He's always in motion—pumping weights, jogging, swimming, kayaking. He's a ray of light bouncing around the earth.

The coffee is hot against my tongue.

How he hates my dark moods.

"You should talk with someone," he often tells me, pushing me to treatment. I know what he thinks—fix yourself; you're broken. I'm not allowed to be negative, ever. He expects me to be perpetually happy. Well, that's not normal. It's fake. He takes my sadness as a personal insult.

He proudly hangs my paintings of sunshine and sweet things, but my darker, moodier creations are relegated to my studio.

"Why did you paint that?" He asks—judging, trying to censor me. 

"You have no right," I tell him, and we fight.

Did I drive him away?

It may sound odd, but I'd like to think that I was at least partially responsible. It gives me a sense of control. I'd rather believe that than...

Is someone else involved?

He's a good-looking man. I see how other women leer at him. They lick their lips like he's chocolate. Lately, I've noticed one of his students—a sweet, young thing. What's her name? Oh, yes, Lisa. I see how Lisa swallows him up with her eyes, then quickly looks away.

Where is he right now? Are they twisted together in silk sheets? Is he loving Lisa? What's the truth?

Even in my sleep-deprived state, it didn't take long to figure out that the voice was in my apartment. Was it a ghost? Was my apartment haunted? Or was it...the...necklace?


Chapter Four

Aurora hears a voice telling her a story. Where do you think the voice is coming from? Why do you think the voice has chosen Aurora?



Are you following me?






photo by ldyck

A tribute to a dear friend...

God bless the cheerleaders in our lives. Cheerleaders who go that extra mile to support our dreams.