Adding Sensory Details to your Story By Connie Vines #BWL Blog, #Perfume #CustomPerfumes #Creating the Perfect Fragrance, #RoseGarden

 In past posts, I've shared many of my interests: my family, gardening, pets (past, present), my nomadic childhood, and my "careers". However, I seldom mention my background in perfuming.

Of course, sensory details (all of the senses) are important--a critical key in the "realisum" of your story.

I am not a chemist. However, I am a trained fragrance consultant.

This is a science. A client's pH level is determined, and fragrances are selected based on this (and, of course, personal preferences).  

 An author (including a fiction writer) is heavily involved in research and personal experiences. Some good; some negative.

In Gumbo Ya Ya (anthology), my story is set in New Orleans, Louisiana. 

My first story involves a newly created perfume — an unexpectedly developed "Love Potion". 😉💖

While I love the premise and the characters in my story, love potions (thankfully) are not real.

Taste, touch, and smell are grounding elements of any good story. A reader is familiar with the taste/scent of a cup of coffee or tea. The scent of freshly cut hay, the sound of a dog barking. The scent of a sea breeze.

Or, the fragrances wafting from a rose garden.

Connie's garden photo, 2023

Connie's garden roses 2023

Connie's Rose Garden 2023

Roses are my favorite flowers in my garden. 

The fragrance of a rose is a complex symphony of volatile organic compounds, a blend of a sweet, floral base accented by notes of fruit, spice, and even earthy undertones. 

Long ago, men of rank had their mattresses filled with dried rose petals.

Rose notes may vary considerably from one to another, depending on where the rose was grown and who extracted its essence. 

To quote, Sawyer, Odorgraphia, 1892

It has been noticed that previous to a storm, or atmospheric disturbance, the odor of the rose seems strangely increased; this may be by reason of the oxidizing influence of the ozone in the atmosphere, or it may be that our perception faculties are sharpened at such a moment.

Around the world, rose essence has been used to flavor both sweet and savory dishes, and it was an important ingredient in early ginger ale recipes.

Simple Recipe for Rose Hip Tea:

4 (8 g) Rose Hubuscuis tea bags.

4 cups hot water

4 cups cranberry juice, chilled

1 lemon, sliced.

Add tea bags to hot water; steep for 10 mins. Add remaining ingredients and chill. Add ice to chilled glasses. 

Excerpt |Teaser  "Love Potion #9"  Gumbo Ya Ya by Connie Vines

“Don’t shake your finger at me, Simone Basso. I know what I’m doing.” Persia Richmond said, filling a half-ounce bottle with perfume. The warm scent of spice, magnolia, mimosa, and a hint of something unnamed and mysterious wafted across the narrow processing room.

The fragrance was New Orleans; culture at its most upscale moments and Mardi Gras at its naughtiest! A smile of supreme joy curved her mouth, and success warmed her soul.

Persia had dreamt of creating a signature fragrance since her grandpapa began her tutelage in perfuming.

 “I’ve done warned you and warned you about messing with love potions!”

 “You worry too much, Simone,” she replied, rearranging her test tubes. “This is a perfume. Nothing more, nothing less.“

Simone’s brightly turbaned head caught Louisiana sunlight streaming through the perfumery’s large display window as she rested her hands on her ample hips. “Menterie. It’s a love potion.” 

 “I’ve extracted essences from bayou plants before, and you didn’t object.” 

“You be using flowers then. Not that root!  That root be from a voodoo love-plant!”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Simone. There’s no such thing as a voodoo love-plant!”   Persia glanced at the shavings of the rust-colored root she’d placed in a circular dish for processing. “This root is almost identical to cinnamon bark.”

“Then why you not be using cinnamon bark?” 

Persia cast a cautionary look toward the showroom doorway. Mindful of the clients, Persia lowered her voice. “You know as well as I that every major perfuming house used cinnamon bark or vanilla as a fragrance base last year. Do you want me branded as a knock-off perfumer?  If that happens, not only will we lose the shop, but I won’t even be able to land a job developing scented toilet paper.”

Simone shivered when Persia pressed on. “’This is our breakout fragrance. “That’s why it’s so important that this perfume be unique, beyond comparison. Love Potion #9 is going to blow away the competition.”

“Sugar-cakes,” Simone said, eyeing the glass bottle and its shimmering contents with misgivings. “It’s gonna do more than that! You have no idea what that root can do to folks.”

Dabbing a piece of cotton with perfume, Persia slipped it inside her bra and tucked the fragrance sample into her purse. “The ad campaign breaks next month. We can argue about this tomorrow.  Tonight I plan to get a head start on our local promo.”

“Bayou country means nothing but trouble for you.  If your grandpapa was still alive—“

“I don’t want to talk about grandpapa or the bayou right now,” she snapped, “Chardonnay sets trends in this city,” she reminded Simone. “What better way to showcase our product than for me to model it at her party?”  

                                    #

After being escorted into the Dubois’s foyer by the butler, her host turned from a cluster of his guests to greet her. 

“Persia,” Jean-Paul exclaimed, kissing her briefly on each cheek in old Creole fashion. “So good of you to come. Ummm, you smell delightful, my dear.”

 She smiled. “Grandpapa always said perfume is like a rousing concerto. The bouquet is made up of notes: the top note, the first impression, the mid note piques one’s curiosity, and finally, the base note.  The final note is the fragrance’s lasting impression.”  

 “It’s good to see that you are carrying on his work,” Jean-Paul said, cupping her elbow and leading her toward the ballroom. “He would be so proud of you.”

 “I’ve tried hard to fulfill his dreams, Jean-Paul.”

“I know you have. And you will. Your grandpapa always said you were a natural for the industry. I believe he said you have the nose for the fragrance.”

“I should. He spent a lifetime tutoring me. I could probably identify more fragrances than there are plants in the bayou.”

Jean-Paul stopped as they wandered into the grand ballroom filled with New Orleans polite society. He drew her fingertips to his lips. “I must remain here to greet the guests, so I’ll turn you over to my wonderful wife,” he added. “I know how much you hate being away from the city. Even so, Persia, don’t stay away so long.”

“I promise.” Jean-Paul was her grandfather’s dearest friend, and for a moment, as the warmth of his love surrounded her, it was as if her grandfather was near. The disquiet she felt at being so close to the bayou faded away as she turned toward Chardonnay.

Chardonnay gave Persia a friendly hug and looped her arm in hers. Persia always admired Chardonnay’s thick black hair and expressive green eyes. It wasn’t envy, but rather an appreciation of the woman’s ability to cause a ripple of excitement without ever saying a word.  “I was so worried after you and that Cajun broke up,” she said, “but it’s so good to see you’ve recovered. And now, look at you! Your shop is all the talk of New Orleans. Tell me what magic you have worked with those flowers of yours this time?”

Before Persia could get past describing the perfume’s signature bottle, the melodious bells chimed, signaling dinner.

                                                              #

To purchase Gumbo Ya Ya and my other novels, visit the links below.   

"Lynx" Rodeo Romance, Book 1, is also available in audiobook via Amazon.com

Happy Reading!

Connie Vines 

Please post your favorite flower and perfume in the comments section.

Shop:

https://www.bookswelove.com

My novels are also available at online book sellers :)

Including:

Amazon

https://www.amazon.com/stores/Connie-Vines/author/B004C7W6PE?

Random Acts of Kindness - Barbara Baker

 

It happened while I was camping at Peter Lougheed Provincial Park in Alberta. Tucked away in Kananaskis Country, the park’s wilderness area only has cellphone reception at the secluded Park’s Visitor Centre. To log into their WiFi when the office is closed, you need to stand at the entrance door, stick your tongue out the side of your mouth and hold your phone in the air. Chances of a strong signal are better when few people are around.

 

I know, I’m in the wilderness - why do I need reception? Well, with an elderly dad, I check in every evening to make sure he’s okay.

Before supper, I drive down to the visitor centre. The parking lot is empty. Great. I’ll be able to send and receive the text and get back to the campsite in record time.

Leaning against the locked door, I see three bars on my phone. Perfect. I send my text, wait a few minutes, receive the message … all is well. I tuck my phone in my pocket and walk back to my car. Just as I reach the edge of the sidewalk a noisy, rusty car screeches to a stop in front of me. I glance around. Where the heck did they come from? And why so fast?

The front passenger window rolls down and a gal with piercings in her lip and nostril shouts, “Get in the car.”

I check around. No one. Anywhere. I bend down to talk to her but keep my distance from the open window. The driver (maybe the mom) waves a cigarette in one hand while the other hand wrestles to grab the collar of a barking, giant mutt who’s trying to jump into the front seats.

“Seriously, get in the car,” the gal with the piercings shouts again.

I shake my head slowly. I’m not rude but I’m also not the kind of person to jump into a stranger's car just because they tell me to. The driver yells at the dog to sit. The dog sits but continues to bark.

“There’s a bear.” The gal points towards my car. “He’s big.”

 

My eyes follow her pointing finger. Sure enough, a bear walks by my car and towards us. To hell with caution, I grab the back passenger door handle and ask, “Will he bite?”

“Of course not.” Her arm pushes the dog over.

I get into the backseat, close the door and press against it. The dog stops barking and stares at me. Would being chased by a bear be less intimidating? The dog leans over. And licks my cheek. Okay, that is better than dealing with a bear. 

The driver points out the window and says, “Is that your car?”

“Yup.” It sure didn’t seem that far away when I parked it.

Their car moves towards mine while we watch the bear watch us. As we get closer it saunters towards the edge of the pavement. The driver parks so my exit door is beside my driver door. I pull out my fob, unlock the door and glance at the bear.

“Thank you so much.” I pat their shoulders and give the dog a good scratch. “You saved my ass.”

“Okay. He’s moving away,” the driver says. “Go.”

I open the door, careful not to scratch my car, and take a big breath. One. Two. Three. I shut their door (a bit too hard), take the two steps to mine, jump in and slam my door (equally hard). The bear looks up and tips his head side to side.

The gal with the piercings rolls down her window, smiles and waves. I wave back and they drive away.

I look up through my car’s sunroof and whisper, “Thank you.”

You can contact me at: bbaker.write@gmail.com

Summer of Lies: Baker, Barbara:9780228615774: Books - Amazon.ca

What About Me?: Sequel to Summer of Lies : Baker, Barbara: Amazon.ca: Books

 

My Work in Progress: The 12 Scents Of Christmas, "Fragrance and Love Series," Novella #1 By Connie Vines #Perfume, #Fragrance Library,

Temps are in the mid-80s (26.7°) today in SoCal.  Getting into the holiday spirit takes a little work, but I'm getting the hang of it.

Scents/ fragrances are personal preferences.  While we may not like the same perfumes, colognes, or candle scents, we usually agree on the scents which represent "holidays."

The phrase 'smells like Christmas' is something we use throughout the year. 

Scents that come to mind are:

Mulled wine. 

Cinnamon. 

Pine. 

Orange. 

Clove. 

Gingerbread. 

Rosemary and Thyme.

Hot Chocolate.

An Open Fire.

What are your favorite holiday scents?

What memories come to mind when you relive that special moment?

Why are the choice of scents universal?  Because scents trigger memories.

Why are scents capable of triggering memories?

Because scent skips the thalamus, smells can enter our brains and attach to memories without us consciously registering or processing them.

3 roses from my garden

With this thought in mind, you can imagine the fragrance of my roses, correct?

Rose scent varies with the time of day. The early morning is when scents are strongest, with the most powerful scents produced by the first blooms of summer. 

When confronted by an unfamiliar scent, we must process the fragrance.

Magnolia is one of my favorite scents (having spent a great deal of my early childhood in the southern states). The large floral blossom has a sweet floral fragrance that's lightly fruity, with some comparing the scent to that of Champagne. Its fresh yet relaxing aroma makes it incredibly popular in aromatherapy.

Are there fragrances you are drawn to?  

Do you have a favorite perfume?

A favorite lotion scent?

More about more work in progress:

My setting is near the southern California coast, where abundant flowers are grown.

Since I worked as a fragrance consultant at a perfumery. You also have a peek into the perfuming process. 

Though I'm still pondering names for my Hero and Heroine.

I assure you there will be recipes for holiday treats and a few surprises.

 Follow me on Facebook/Instagram/or my blog for updates!

Remember, I post questions to my readers.  Naming my hero and heroine will be added tomorrow.

click on the link to purchase my novels :-)  

Or view my bio.

https://bookswelove.net/vines-connie/

Happy Reading,

Connie

Bon Voyage To Meee by Vanessa C. Hawkins

 

 

 Vanessa Hawkins Author Page

    So curretly I am en route to Toronto Ontario, so I fear there will be but a small blog post this month. I flew via Flair Airlines without a hitch, and am typing this up as I sit in the very front of the Robert Q bus. What a flight, I must say! I was glad to have a bit of liquid courage on the plane because the landing was rocky at best. The wildfires in Canada mean the skies are clouded in smog, which I suppose corresponds to mega turbulance. However, I am lucky to find myself here and on the way to plan and map out another book!

It was a lovely view in New Brunswick today at least. Though, if you have ever flown flair you may know how cheap it is. This comes at a price however, as every little thing has an extra charge. For example, carry on baggage. Now... I am but a humble writer. I'm no Stephen King nor Dean Koontz. I can't afford all the extras can I?

Well... not on a novelists salary! So, I planned ahead! I wore all my clothes on the plane, packed a fanny pack, and made sure even my boots had pockets!

I wasn't kidding! Good for one pair of underpants! 

Now that means as soon as I arrived I had to change. Holy heck its hot here! New Brunswick was crisp 10 degrees maybe, but by the time I arrived at TO I was due for a wardrobe change. I'm only here a few short days, but I am hoping to take in some sights while I'm here. I'm also going to be meeting up with my co-author for the Ballroom Riot series, Tara Woodworth! 

I'll have more to report next month when I return from my first trip since the pandemic! So stayed tuned then and keep writing! 

                

Before Flight and after flight... I felt much cooler after changing! 

Bon Voyage to Meeeeeeeeee

On Finishing Manuscripts by Vanessa C. Hawkins

 

 

 Vanessa Hawkins Author Page

Exhausted and overcome by Christmas and another completed manuscript, I have naught the energy to write much more this month. So I shall give you fine readers this: a poem on finishing manuscripts. Enjoy! 

Twas the night before New Years, 

And all in the house,

A mother was writing

and trying to rouse

her creations! 

Of romance! and fear! and conclusions, 

but kiddos indulged with sugar lllusions

won't sleep. And now it is half past the hour, 

and mother, up late, is starting to sour,

and so as the hen scratch digs wounds on the page, 

she worries her ire is starting to rage, 

but despite all her kids and her spouse and chores, 

she finishes early, the manuscript soars!

from 'in progress' to 'finished'

my, what a delight, 

but now everyone's sleeping

she's up past midnight.

 So the New Year is gone, 

and the fireworks done, 

and now all she has left 

is to edit...

No fun. 

Hope everyone had a Happy New Year! :) 

Leave It to Santa to Take Credit for Everything Us Moms Do by Vanessa C. Hawkins

 

 

 Vanessa Hawkins Author Page

      It is December, which for most, is the month of holiday cheer, presents, candy canes and Santa Claus, but for me its the inevitable month of writer's block. Nanowrimo--which for those of you that don't know is abbreviated for National November Writing Month (I think...)--- is the month where we write a bunch of words as fast as we can, with the ultimate goal of acheiving 50k words.

So 50k. It's a goal I used to find feasible, but after having spawn, realized it was way too &5^$ing crazy for me to ever accomplish now. SO I aimed for 10K and hit the mark. Now it's December, and I feel like a deflated bag of goo, chock full of little hairs, rocks and whatever else you may find stuck to the carpet. 

Me.

Now how am I supposed to write when there is Christmas to think about? Not to mention that I used up all my good ideas in an effort to get my draft done (which it isn't, by the way). I figure I have about 10k more words to go, but all I want is a good hoodie, some wine and true crime shows. 

Merry Christmas! Next up on Cold Case Files...

And you know... It used to be that if you finished Nano, you got a sticker. Now they don't give them out (at least where I am) so I can't even do it for the bragging rights! Not to mention that they changed the website and I can't even see my past achievements... you know... the days when I WAS able to write 50k in one month. 

So I guess I'll just keep writing and figure it out later. Afterall, that's what I told y'all to do when you get a case of writer's block. Wouldn't make any sense for me to tell others to keep on truckin' right? 

Ughh... I hope Santa brings me a nap...

A Lit Interrogation of My Co-Author by Vanessa C. Hawkins

 

 

 Vanessa Hawkins Author Page

      My bad. I forgot to post last month. But I have good news! I've finally gotten around to interviewing my co-author: Tara Woodworth! You know... that *other* name on a few of my book covers? She's real! And after a few libations, what started as an interrogation ended in a character development and shenanigans that somehow mapped out book 3...

Are you curious? Of course you are! So without further ado, here is our interview, which she may or may not remember having... 

 1. When did you first realize you wanted to be a writer, Tara? (This is a boring arse question, I know, but bear with me, it gets better)!

Tara: When my friend Vanessa sent me a text message saying that we should write a book. 

*interviewers footnote* We used to write together back and forth. Some call it RP. Some of it was crap. The bulk of Shad and Scarlet was pretty good.

2. How long does it take you to write a book?

Tara: *she blinks and tries to ask me the same question. I tell her it is not I who is being interviewed* About a year depending on how often we write, which is about two or three days a week for a few hours per session. Right?

*interviewers footnote* This is correct.

3. What would you say is your interesting writing quirk? 

Tara: Sometimes I lay awake at night thinking about a conversation between characters or how a scene will play out until I fall asleep. 

4. What does your family think of your writing? 

Tara: They think it's great, but they also don't think of me as a real writer because I'm writing fiction/fantasy

*interviewers footnote* Cries** So true...

5. Do you have plans to ever write a book on your own or with another author besides me?

Tara: *She is of course thinking: No way! Vanessa is the best there is! How could I possibly think of writing with anyone other than this amazing genius of fiction and fantasy?* 

What she says: I mi-i-i-ight write a book on my own eventually, but I have no plans to write anything with any other authors. I won't talk about my idea though, or I'll lose my gumption to write on my own, so don't ask about it!

6. Hardest thing about writing with Vanessa C. Hawkins (if any :D) Did I ever frustrate you to no end?

Tara: Vanessa spells pajamas weird and uses weird colloquillisms that I edit out when she isn't looking...

*interviewers footnote* Yeah well, I edit all your adverbs out. Tara is an adverb queen. Also, it's spelled pyjamas. *sticks out tongue*   

7.If you could meet any character in Ballroom Riot which one would it be? 

Tara: Shad. Coz he's a dragon. 

8. Let's talk about Shad. If he could, for whatever reason, only keep one thing from his hoard, what would it be and why? 

Tara: Shad would be so heartbroken that I can't even picture how he would react. He probably has a dragon bug out bag that contains his most precious treasures. So... like, a necklace with the most expensive diamonds, or something with a giant gemstone. Whatever it was with the most monetary value. But if he is thinking of Scarlet as part of his hoard, then he'd take her...

*interviewers footnote* and probably whine about it later...

9. How would Shad break up with someone? 

Tara: He wouldn't. He'd always be the person who was broken up with. Maybe... maybe he would ghost a person... maybe... 

10. Would Shad think fart noises were funny?

Tara: What? Omg. No... if Scarlet tooted he wouldn't say anything, he'd probably just pretend it didn't happen. Scarlet probably would though... she's that kind of woman, and if Shad farted she'd tease him endlessly... if she wasn't blown away by noxious dragon gas.

11.  What would Shad think was the most annoying thing about Scarlet? 

Tara: When Scarlet gets mad at him, she walks too fast on purpose so he has to hobble to keep up. That's annoying... but also, despite being a graceful and loving person, she'll take out something with packaging, open it, use it, and leave the packaging wherever in the hell is convienent for her! She doesn't throw it out! Done using these clothes? Wham! Thrown on the back of the couch! Can't find an ashtray? Cigarette butt in the fruit bowl! 

*interviewers footnote* I think we've hit a nerve here...

Well, Tara, thank you for the interview! Before we end though, is there anything else you'd like to say?

Tara (who may or may not have actually said this): Book three is in the works! Hoping for a release of next year or so, but be sure to keep an eye out on the Books We Love webpage or Vanessa's blog for updates! We promise, it won't take ten years for us to write it... we aren't buttheads like... 

Till next time, folks!
 

Brace Yourself, Sweater Weather--and a New Book-- is Coming by Vanessa C. Hawkins

 

 Vanessa Hawkins Author Page

      September! It is offically spooky season! The stores are already stuffed full of Halloween goodies, and I just can't wait to jam them in all corners of my house until it resembles something haunted and is a possible candidate for Hoarders: Horror Edition. Whoot! I always get excited for this time of year, because not only are witches and warlocks about, it's also sweater and leggings season and MAN can I rock a good sweater/legging combo! 

For real tho! Pants are way overrated. I don't need that kinda stress in my life, especially with the holidays fast approaching. And as much as I love summer, I hate being so super hot that I can't go outside without slathering cream all over my face to prevent it from turning into some kind of fruit/veg hybrid! 

So leggings and sweaters! Cozy, yet fashionable enough that when someone comes for a surprise visit, you aren't hiding in the next room hoping they go away because you've been sweltering in your underwear all day. Also support. Leggings are like... the new bra. Especially for us folks who've had a baby or two or like to indulge in an extra slice of ice cream cake every now and then.

But despite sweater weather fast approaching, I can't get over the fact that Christmas decorations are already starting to show up on shelves. Is it just me? Is anyone else out there nauseated by the fact that December is like four months away and already the holly jolly face of Santa Clause is trying to pervert our thoughts with this overwhelming beast of a holiday? FOUR MONTHS! That's a third of the year that our stores are infested with this festive parasite!

It drives me nuts. I mean, I like Christmas, but I like Christmas in December! Leave September, October and November alone, Kris Kringle, we aren't ready for you yet! 

Saying that, I am excited to announce that my co author and I are about to release the second book in the Ballroom Riot series. If you didn't notice that sparkly new book cover up top, go and check it out! It would definitely make a great Christmas gift....

Bunker Blitz is set to release in October. Not sure of the exact date yet, but I can promise that it'll be out before Winds of Winter. That thing is just a lost cause by now. I mean... I really want to go watch House of Dragon but I just can't bring myself to do it until he finishes the Song of Fire and Ice series. So I guess I'll never see it... unless by some miracle he pens the book... or he dies and his publisher gets someone else to do it...

Which mean's he's basically immortal now *shrug*

 But in the meantime! Bunker Blitz! Ya know, in case you were too lazy to scroll up ;)

Resentment is brewing in the streets of Comero. Although local dragon Shad O’Rahin thought his enemies were finally eliminated, the return of an old rival threatens to shake his grip on the city’s illegal liquor trade. While he takes steps to eliminate the danger to his enterprise, Shad’s wife, Scarlet Fortune is caught in the crossfire. 

Scarlet is the last vampire left in the Comero Police Department. When blackmail begins to jeopardize her career, she launches an investigation to take care of the situation on her own. But with their first child on the way and an unexpected visit from reptilian in-laws throwing their peaceful homelife into turmoil, the situation may prove too tough to tackle alone. Especially when a pretty gold dragon starts making eyes at her husband!

Their difficulties only escalate, leading them both into danger as they peek at the rotten underbelly of Comero’s vampire blood trade. With other dragons in town vying to drive a wedge between them, can Scarlet and Shad find a way to face the threat together?

…all while picking out baby names?

I'm Going On A Writer's Retreat to Retreat From My Life by Vanessa C. Hawkins

 

 Vanessa Hawkins Author Page

      I'm back! Ya-a-a-a-a-a-a-ay! And if you were anywhere near Canada last month, you may have heard--or experienced--the giant internet outage that raged throughout the country. The chaos it caused! I'm talking mass hysteria! Riots in the streets! 

Okay, not really. Though it happened while I was coming home from PEI and leaving the province without access to a debit card was a bit wonky. If you've read my previous post about the Island of Prince Edward, you may know that in order to leave you need to pay money. And in a world increasingly reliant on an invisible cyber universe, not having access to your bank account can make things difficult. 

 But I escaped! And the internet is back, so I can blissfully immerse myself in stupid cat memes, tik toks and other general nonsense that keeps me from doing anything remotely worthwhile during the course of my day to day life! 

Which may be the reason I thought it was a good idea to sign up for a writer's retreat! 

Whenever I write it's always a retreat... from the crushing reality of my own inadequacies...  
*not really*.... cries

So what is a writer's retreat? Well, I suppose that depends... For me, it's offering a chance to escape the mania of my household for a weekend and browse facebook somewhere that is devoid of familial distraction and responsibilities...

For the sake of my sanity. 

But really? It's a chance to write and I'm REALLY FREAKING excited! Not because I'm going to constantly worry about wasting time, but because it's been almost three years that I've had an opportunity to focus on my writing. My husband has graciously been supportive in my decision to go, and it's only a weekend! So I mean, definitely not enough time for them to destroy the house or summon Cthulhu accidently, right? 

Nah... it will be okay. That's a problem for future me. I ain't gonna worry about it until I get back. Present me is excited! Thrilled! Already prepping my current work in progress for all the productivity I am going to encompass!

*True dat*

Maybe I'll leave the computer at home... or buy one of those fancy, old style typewriters to keep me from becoming distracted... What would you do? I suppose I could hire someone to come along and slap me across the face whenever I start browsing the toks! But that kinda defeats the purpose of being by myself for the weekend... and...

...is there such a service? 

  What if I invented one!? What if there's a catalogue of hires you can choose from. They come with you, tell you that you're a great writer and will read all your crummy drafts, SMASH that writers block. 

I think I'd need a tall dark and handsome one... who likes to walk around with his shirt off...

Maybe less Zoidberg and more Mamoa...

Maybe George R. R. Martin should go on a writer's retreat. Maybe if it works for me, I'll suggest it on his social media platform! 

 

At least it's an ending... *Cries again*

Also, how the H-E-double hockey stick does Winds of Winter already have OVER 9000 reviews on Goodreads!? IT'S NOT EVEN OUT YET PEOPLE!!!

Why am I always crying?