Playing the Cello (short story) by Leanne Dyck

 The cello stands in the corner, waiting to sing her song. Who will help her sing it? My friend Manon's relationship with her cello inspired this short story. 

"Sky" photo by ldyck

Playing the Cello

The cello leaned against the boy and felt him drag the bow across her strings. It hurt her and she sang out in pain, "Ouch!"

Sometimes the boy's hands were dirty from playing outside and sticky from eating jam on toast but the cello didn't mind. He played her. Slowly, day by day, the boy became her friend. Slowly, day by day, the boy learned how to hold the bow and pull it across her strings so it didn't hurt. And slowly, day by day, her song became sweeter and ever sweeter. Her music was so beautiful that others listened. Sometimes, many times, the boy's mother listened.

But one day the boy didn't come to play. And that day stretched into a week, a month, a year. The cello stood in the corner of the room waiting.

"What's that thing?" Visitors asked.

"I'm a cello. Play me," the cello sang, but without her bow against her strings, she couldn't sing loud enough to be heard. 

Year after year, the cello waited. Until one day someone did pick up her bow. Someone did drag the bow across her strings.

"Ouch!" It hurt her.

Had the boy come back? Had he remembered his friend?

No.

The boy's mother came--her hands smelled of soap, meals cooked, and gardens tended. Slowly, day by day, the woman learned how to draw the bow so it didn't hurt. Slowly, day by day, the cello sang more and more sweetly.

And now no one asks, "What's that big thing?" for everyone knows that she's a cello and she sings sweetly. She sings for you in lush gardens where bumble bees buzz. And she sings for me in grand concert halls where once long ago cellists in white wings and jackets with tails played. And she sings...

What does a cello sound like?

On the Blog in December

Sunday, December 22

Carry Me Home (children's story)

Mitten happily rests beside his brother in the girl's pocket, but then he falls...  It's cold... It's dark... Who will help Mitten get home?

Sunday, December 24

Christmas Collection (short stories)

A slight change of plans. I've decided to share my collection of Christmas-themed short stories--including the one I wrote this year.  I hope you enjoy reading them. 

Sunday, December 29

Holiday Office Party (short story)

 Holiday parties can be challenging, especially for spouses. What do you say to people you barely know but who may be important to your husband's career?

And my year-end wind-up.

Do You Write Every Day? (short story) by Leanne Dyck

 Dreams help keep me motivated. This short story was inspired by one...

Beautiful Abby posing for you

Photo by ldyck

Do You Write Everyday?

I dreamt that I was a guest on a talk show and the host asked me, “You’re rather prolific. Do you write every day?”

“Every day. In fact, I wrote something just before I joined you.”

“Really? Well, I’d like to—.”

The audience cheered.

“Apparently, we’d all like to hear what you wrote.”

Applause and laughter.

“Okay, sure.” I pulled a scrap piece of paper out of my pocket, unfolded it and read, “She hid backstage, fearful to take the plunge, but her name was called... She pushed herself forward—one step, two. Supportive applause greeted, warmed her. She made it across the stage to a chair. A friendly face smiled at her and he asked, ‘Do you write every day? What was the last thing you wrote? Can you read it to us? We’d all like to hear it.’”

What's your dream?

"Dream Big" performed by Ryan Shupe & the RubberBand

On the Blog in December

Sunday, December 15 

Playing the Cello (short story)

 The cello stands in the corner, waiting to sing her song. Who will help her sing it? This short story was inspired by a friend's relationship with her cello.

Sunday, December 22

Carry Me Home (children's story)

Mitten happily rests beside his brother in the girl's pocket, but then he falls...  It's cold... It's dark... Who will help Mitten get home?

Sunday, December 24

Alone on Christmas (short story)

During this time of joy, of merriment... When we gather with friends and family, it's important to remember those who are socially isolated. 

Sunday, December 29

Holiday Office Party (short story)

 Especially for spouses, Christmas parties can be challenging. What do you say to people you barely know but who may be important to your husband's career?

Finely writing...

How to be a published author by Leanne Dyck

I've been published a few times, and I'm working on being published a few more. Now I'll share everything I know about making that happen. Everything--or at least try to.

photo by ldyck

How to be a Published Author

1)There are two types of writers...

Writers who write for fun

Writers who write for profit

As you work to build a career in writing, don’t forget to keep writing fun.

2)What do writers who write for profit do?

-develop their craft

-build a readership

-study the publishing industry

-network with others in the publishing industry

3)There are two types of publishing

self-publishing (authors who publish themselves)

traditional publishing (authors who are published by a publishing house)

4)What are some of the benefits and challenges of self-publishing?

Benefits

You are in charge

You decide who will work with you on your book

(editor(s), book cover designer, printer, etc.)

You decide when the book will be published

Challenges

You’re in charge of financing

You’re in charge of marketing

Marketing is not solely a concern for the self-published. Traditionally published authors are expected to work in partnership with their publishing house to market their books.

Marketing101

5)What are some of the benefits and challenges of being published by a publishing house?

Benefits

-the publishing house pays you and everyone else that is involved with publishing your book

-you work with a team of professionals to publish and market your book

Challenges

-you must send your manuscript to a publishing house and wait for them to decide what they will do with it. They could accept it which is glorious. They could reject it which is painful.

6)How do you decide what publisher to contact?

-look on your bookshelf—what publisher do you read?

-visit your favourite bookstore—what books appeal to you the most?

-visit websites like publishers’ weekly

-read magazines like Quill and Quire: Canada’s magazine of book news and reviews

-network with others in the publishing industry by attending writing events like Word Vancouver

7)How do you know to whom to send your manuscript?

Visit the publisher’s website and read the submission page

8)Should you send the publisher a chapter-by-chapter outline or a synopsis? How many sample pages should you send?

Visit the publisher’s website and read the submission page.

 9)What is a cover letter?

A cover letter briefly describes

your manuscript (title, genre, word count, target reader)

and

you (hit the highlights)

10)What is a synopsis?

A synopsis is a summary of your manuscript. A tight focus should be kept on your main character. Show their growth during the story.

11)Keep careful records of where you sent your manuscript and when. I use a binder.

12) How long will you have to wait for a reply?

Visit the publisher’s website and read the submission page.

13)What can you do while you wait for a reply?

-network with others in the publishing industry

-study the publishing industry

-build a readership by, for example, participating in open-mic nights or building a blog

-develop your writing craft by taking a writing course or actively reading a good book

To be an active reader, write a book review of the books you enjoyed reading

-keep writing

-send other manuscripts to other publishers

-send the same manuscript to other publishers

Most publishers allow simultaneous submissions—and I highly recommend it.

This week...

I enjoyed listening to Tom Powers's interview with Henry Winkler this week.

On this Blog in December

Sunday, December 8

Do You Write Every Day? (short story)

Dreams help keep me motivated. This short story was inspired by one.

Sunday, December 15 

Playing the Cello (short story)

 The cello stands in the corner, waiting to sing her song. Who will help her sing it? This short story was inspired by a friend's relationship with her cello.

Sunday, December 22

Carry Me Home (children's story)

Mitten happily rests beside his brother in the girl's pocket, but then he falls...  It's cold... It's dark... Who will help Mitten get home?

Sunday, December 24

Alone for Christmas (short story)

During this time of joy, of merriment... When we gather with friends and family, it's important to remember those who are socially isolated. 

Sunday, December 29

Holiday Office Party (short story)

 Especially for spouses, Christmas parties can be challenging. What do you say to people you barely know but who may be important to your husband's career?

Carrots (children's story) by Leanne Dyck

Mariam Horse is an avid gardener who shares what she harvests with her neighbours because she knows she always wins when she shares with friends.

photo by ldyck

Carrots

One sky-blue morning, Victoria Pig visited Mariam Horse’s garden. “My, what a fine crop of carrots you have, Mariam.”

“Yes, there’s nothing like carrots fresh out of the garden. And I have far too many.” As quickly as she could, Mariam Horse picked a basketful for Victoria Pig.

That afternoon, Lilja Squirrel visited Mariam Horse’s garden. “You sure do know how to grow carrots.”

“Would you like some?” Without waiting for an answer, Mariam Horse picked a basketful for Lilja Squirrel.

A few minutes later, Wen Rabbit visited Mariam Horse’s garden. “Wow, I sure do love carrots.”

Mariam Horse picked the remaining carrots and handed the basket to Wen Rabbit.

“I couldn’t take your last ones,” Wen Rabbit said.

“Yes, you can and will. I can always grow more,” Mariam Horse said.

Early the next day, Wen Rabbit returned Mariam Horse’s basket. She left it on the porch with a note that read, “Enjoy!” Mariam Horse looked inside and found a dozen carrot muffins.

That afternoon Lilja Squirrel returned Mariam Horse’s basket. She left it on the porch with a note that read, “For you!” Mariam Horse looked inside and found a carrot cake with creamy icing.

A few minutes later, Victoria Pig knocked on Mariam Horse’s door. “I just wanted to return your basket and as a thank you, I made you some carrot juice.” She handed a jar to Mariam Horse.

“That’s so kind of you,” Mariam Horse said. “Here, let me walk you to the gate.”

On the way to the gate, Mariam Horse led Victoria Pig passed the apple tree.

“My don’t your apples look delicious,” Victoria Pig said.

“Oh, yes, they are and I have far too many.” Mariam Horse ran to get a ladder.

On this blog in December...

Sunday, December 1

How to be a Published Author

I've been published a few times, and I'm working on being published a few more. Next Sunday, I'll try to share all I know about making that happen. Yes. Everything. (or at least most everything)

Sunday, December 8

Do You Write Every Day? (short story)

Dreams help keep me motivated. This short story was inspired by one.

Sunday, December 15 

Playing the Cello (short story)

 The cello stands in the corner, waiting to sing her song. Who will help her sing it? This short story was inspired by a friend's relationship with her cello.

Sunday, December 22

Carry Me Home (children's story)

Mitten happily rests beside his brother in the girl's pocket, but then he falls...  It's cold... It's dark... Who will help Mitten get home?

Sunday, December 24

Alone for Christmas (short story)

During this time of joy, of merriment... When we gather with friends and family, it's important to remember those who are socially isolated. 

Sunday, December 29

Holiday Office Party (short story)

 Especially for spouses, Christmas parties can be challenging. What do you say to people you barely know but who may be important to your husband's career?

Congratulations to...

Not Forgotten (short story) by Leanne Dyck

 How many angels have you met in your life? Angels: people who come into your life--for a short time--to teach you something.

A tribute to one of my favourite island neighbours.

photo by ldyck

Not Forgotten

I'd see him out for a long walk on our small island. His long white hair swinging; his bare feet slapping the pavement. He always offered me a warm, "Glorious day!" and a broad smile. I quickly accepted the greeting and exchanged it for one of my own. His love of life was infectious. I looked forward to seeing him--a bright spot even on the darkest days. Because of his appearance, some may have called him a hippie, but I knew him as Gary Curlew--because he lived on Curlew Island, a tiny island that neighbours Mayne Island.

One day, I was surprised to see him in the hall, camera in hand, taking pictures of us-- amateur actors engaged in a dress rehearsal. The way he moved and held his camera he was experienced and skilled. He took a picture of each of the actors. No one was forgotten--not even me. Would I see that picture again? Where?

I did see it again, framed, contained in a plastic shopping bag and hanging on my fence. It's one of the nicest pictures of me. I look so sweet, so innocent.

photo by Gary

Did I thank him? Did I offer him money or at least a smile? I like to think I did. But, in truth, I can't recall.

(I shared this story with my husband. He assured me that I did thank Gary.)

Next Sunday...

Sunday, November 24

Carrots

A children's story about Mariam Horse and her bountiful garden.

I love this...

An Age (short memoir) by Leanne Dyck

How do you feel about growing older? Are there too many candles on your birthday cake? I wrote this for you...

"Twilight" by ldyck

An Age

25, 40, 50, 70. Everybody has their number. The hill that is too difficult to climb. The cake with too many candles.

Mine was 50, and I felt it every year. And what did I have to show for them? ...not much.

I felt like crawling under my bed and disappearing but...

I could have felt sorry for myself but what would that have accomplished? 50 was more than just a number. It demanded to be acknowledged. Could I... Could I celebrate it?

I needed help. I made a list of friends who handled their age well and told them I was turning 50. I told them I was becoming a 'wise woman' and invited them to join me at the community labyrinth. "Birthday presents aren't necessary. Please bring a word I can carry with me through the next part of my life."

The day was sun-filled. At the entrance to the labyrinth, I handed them a copy of my poem...

Mother, May I

Mother Mary

Mother Goddess

Mother Gaia

Mother, may you

Create me, hold me, transform me

From child to mother to elder

Blessed Mother

Mother Creator

Mother Nurturer

Mother, may I

Create, hold, transform

From child to mother to elder

The divine love

The power of three

We chanted as we walked.

When we reached the middle of the labyrinth, I thanked them for coming and invited them to share their words. They gave me wisdom and magic and believe and truth and...

And a simple celebration with trusted friends, helped me conquer my number; helped me see that I am blessed.

Photo by Crystal Favel

On Reaching Forty

Maya Angelou

Other acquainted years

sidle

with modest

decorum

across the scrim of toughened

tears and to a stage

planked with laughter boards

and waxed with rueful loss

But forty

with the authorized

brazenness of a uniformed

cop stomps

non-knocking

into the script

bumps a funky grind on the 

shabby curtain of youth

and delays the action

Unless you have the inborn

wisdom

and grace

and are clever enough 

to die at

thirty-nine.

Every year...

on the 11th month

on the 11th day

on the 11th hour

I will remember them.

As I meditated on Remembrance Day this year, I solemnly pledged to seek peace within myself and the world.

On this blog in November...

Sunday, November 17

Not Forgotten

A tribute for adults about a Mayne Island friend.

Sunday, November 24

Carrots

A children's story about Mariam Horse and her bountiful garden.

Sharing my author journey...

Be cautious...

Before submitting my work, I conduct thorough research on