How to Best Spend your Summer Vacation

Hi everyone! For those of you who follow me on Twitter and Facebook (links can be found by clicking the words or in the side panel), you’ll have noticed that I was silent this past week. Sorry for the disappearance, but I was on vacation.

Usually we go to the beach. We’ve been to plenty of them: Jamaica, California, Hawaii, the Bahamas, Mexico, the Dominican Republic, and many on the east coast (from New Jersey through Florida). We’ve done amusement and theme park vacations, zoos, cities, and even a cruise, but we always go back to the beach. Sun, sand, surf… it doesn’t get better than that.

Until this year.

This year we spent our vacation in Pennsylvania. My husband and I are both from the same home town, our kids were born there, and we still have family and friends in the area. It’s a two day trip by car, but we stayed with family on the way there and back, so it was kind of like a two-for-one vacation. Sure, I miss the beach, but I have a pool if I want to swim, and I wouldn’t trade my visit home for anything.

When we crossed through the Fort Pitt Tunnel, the sight of Pittsburgh greeting us on the other side was spectacular. The only time it looks better is at night. We saw the fountain at The Point, the Gateway Clipper fleet on the river, the city skyline, Heinz Field, the Carnegie Science Center, and after a short drive, PNC Park (where a baseball game was in progress). I would have loved to have stayed in the city. There’s so much to do there—shopping and eating at The Strip; going to the four Carnegie Museums (Art, Natural History, Science Center, and Andy Warhol); visiting the Pittsburgh Zoo, the Allegheny Observatory, and Phipps Conservatory; riding the Inclines (Duquesne and Monongahela); touring Carnegie Mellon University so the kids could see where their parents went to school; attending a Pirate game; spending a day at Kennywood Park or Sandcastle… I could go on, but we didn’t stay in Pittsburgh. As awesome as the city is, we had better things to do.

We went home to see family.

We’re from Vandergrift, Pennsylvania… it’s a little town about forty minutes northeast of the city. Its claim to fame is that it’s the first worker-owned, industrially-planned town in America. Frederick Law Olmsted, the landscape designer who designed Central Park, was responsible for designing the town. My husband and I met, dated, fell in love, and were married there. We still have a lot of family and friends in the area, and we went home to see them. That beats any trip to the beach, or anywhere else.

We spent time with my ninety-five year old grandmother, looking at old family photos and hearing wonderful tales of days gone by. We visited my husband’s grandmother and his great-aunt and uncle where we listened to stories of family and friends. We stayed with my parents-in-law, where we played games and enjoyed each other’s company. We ate many meals with my family, trying to celebrate Father’s Day and my dad’s birthday with the appropriate fanfare his holidays deserve. We spent time with siblings and their families, and ate the foods that we’ve been craving but can’t get here—both homemade and purchased items. We even attended Mass at our hometown church… a church that is a national landmark and was designed in the gothic style (something that we just don’t see here where the churches are of modern styling).

It was fabulous!

The best part was the reconnecting with family. We heard stories and histories that reinforce who we are and where we’re from. Some of the stories I’d heard before, and some were new, but they were all new to my kids, and watching them absorb their heritage was a golden experience.

I’m not sure what your vacation plans are this year. I could certainly recommend a trip to Pittsburgh. There’s plenty to do, to see, to eat… You wouldn’t be disappointed. But instead, let me recommend a trip where you can connect with your roots. That’s where the real memories will be made.

My entire family enjoyed our trip (adults, kids, and even dogs!), but I’m definitely going to benefit from our visit home. Not only were the areas good for me to revisit because my novel series is set in Western Pennsylvania, I now have fodder for several other stories as well. I bet a visit home would give you some ideas, too.

Have you ever taken a trip where you got ideas for a story? Why don’t you share the experience with us in the comments.

Happy Father’s Day, Robert A. Smith

As my regular readers know, my usual post day is Monday. But today is Father’s Day, and I couldn’t let the day pass without acknowledging my father, Robert Smith.

or all the times when I was a little girl and you came home from work tired, but not too tired to carry me upstairs. I’d wait outside your room for you to change just for you to carry me back down again. I know that was the last thing in the world you felt like doing, but you always made time for me when you got home. You always made time for me, period. It made me feel special.

nd then I’d sit with you while you ate dinner. Except when Eric Sevareid came on the television. (I don’t know why I liked him, but I’d run to the TV to watch him, and when he was over, I’d run back to you.) I always went back to you. And why wouldn’t I? You were my hero. You still are.

hen as I got older, you tried to teach me to swim and to ride a bike. (I know I wasn’t the easiest of students, but I remember your efforts. And I did finally learn!) I also remember easier days, playing cards or you pulling me on the sled in the snow. We always had such fun. I still enjoy spending time with you. I just wish we could do it more often.

ow we made it through the teen years, I don’t know. I would go to you with questions or for permission because Mom was stricter and you were wrapped around my finger, or so I thought. But we did fight. And then I’d cry. I hated having my daddy mad at me. I still do. I’m just glad it doesn’t really happen anymore.

ven though some of those times were ugly, we got through them easily with just a quick joke. Even a bad joke, or a “Bob joke” as they’ve come to be called, would do it. Once, to get out of trouble, I called you “Bob” and I said I said your name backward. Goofy, but you laughed. You never could stay mad at me. I hope that never changes.

emember when I was in college and you were helping me move out of my apartment? We had that tiny Plymouth Horizon and that other family had a huge van, but we packed my whole apartment in one car and that other family was full-up after just a few trips? We laughed about that half way home. Of course, we weren’t laughing when we moved the furniture and the couch flipped onto the Parkway. You really didn’t laugh when someone at work mentioned seeing the incident. It was a good thing they didn’t recognize us! You were always there, helping me. You made things seem easy that I know weren’t.

Dad, growing up with you as my father was the best thing that could have happened to me. You made work fun (remember spraying each other with the hose when we were washing cars?), you made play even more fun (nobody makes Clue as enjoyable as you do), and you were always there for me.

When I got married, I was so excited to walk down the aisle and start my new life with my husband. I smiled and laughed that whole morning. Everyone, even you, commented at how relaxed I was. And why wouldn’t I be? I was marrying the man of my dreams. But before I took that first step, I felt your arm tighten around mine. I remembered I had said I was worried about wobbling in my heels and you had said you wouldn’t let me fall. When I felt your arm, I knew you had me. And I knew it was the last time I’d be relying solely on you. I looked at you… and then cried the whole way down the aisle. But you didn’t really give me away. You just expanded our family and took my husband in. It’s much nicer looking at it that way.

They say girls marry men like their dads. That’s probably true to some extent. I had the best grandfather anyone could ever want. And when my mom chose a husband, she chose a man as wonderful as her father. I have the best dad ever, and when I got married, I chose a man as special as my father. I hope my daughter continues the tradition. Although, I’m not sure they still make men like this.

So thanks Dad, for all you’ve done and for all you do. I love you.

Happy Father’s Day to my father, and to all fathers today. Dads come in all shapes and sizes, and with all kinds of titles (dad, uncle, godfather, stepfather, grandfather, brother, friend), but any supportive male presence in our lives deserves this recognition.

10 Questions to Ask Yourself to Improve Your Writing

If you’re a frequent visitor to this blog, then you know I’m a writer, and occasionally I try to pass on bits of advice to help other writers in their craft. Sometimes it’s in the form of a story from my personal life, other times it’s just a straight up blog post with information.

Today is going to be a little different.

Before I continue, ask yourself the following questions:

Do you consider yourself a writer?
Have you begun shipping your work yet?
Do you know how to write and edit effectively?
Do you have a plan in place to get constructive feedback on your work?
Do you know what steps to take to have a successful launch?
Have you begun to define yourself as a brand?
Are you working on a platform so you’re more marketable?
Is your platform strong and growing steadily?
Do you know who your target audience is?
Do you know how to reach them?

Those are some daunting questions, especially to the beginner, but even to the established writer. Some of those terms may be unfamiliar to you. And you know what? I haven’t even introduced two of the most important terms yet: Cartel and Tribe.

Sometimes people bat buzzwords around and don’t really give you any solid framework with which to understand it. I’m going to do my best to help you along. Look at the questions again.

If the first five questions really got your attention, I urge you to check out Joe Bunting’s Story Cartel Course. Studying six short rules, you will learn the importance of sharing your work, connecting with other writers, writing and editing techniques, reviewing methods, and collaborating for successful book releases. The course wraps up with a series of tools designed to teach you to reach a larger audience faster. Each week, experts in the field share their knowledge and offer tips for navigating the publishing industry. Exercises help you hone your craft, and you always have support from the contacts you make in the forums. The strongest supporter of all is founder Joe Bunting, who also hosts a regular web-chat to introduce new material and answer any questions you might have. This comprehensive program gives you lifetime access to the materials and the forums, so unlike traditional classes, once you sign up, you can keep learning at your own pace for as long as you like, and access like that is priceless. I was a staff member for the pioneer run, and I thought the program was great, and Joe is continually tweaking the program to make it even better for future students. If you write fiction, this is a course you don’t want to miss. Click “Story Cartel” to register or join the waiting list, or click on the logo in my sidebar.

If the second set of questions piqued your interest, you may be more interested in growing your platform and online presence than working on your writing. And that’s great. Both the craft of writing and the discipline of marketing go hand-in-hand these days. You pretty much can’t have a successful career without both. If learning to use social media to increase your brand awareness is something you’re interested in, then signing up for the Tribe Writers course is something you should consider. This course offers eight weeks of lessons designed to help you improve your writing while increasing your platform, a large forum of current and former classmates to support your efforts and interact with, interviews from experts in the fields of publishing and social media, and regular web-chats with founder Jeff Goins, who makes certain all students feel welcome and encouraged. This program offers lifetime access to the materials and the forums, so you can work at your own pace. I was a pioneer member of Tribe Writers, and it just gets better every time Jeff offers it. If you’re looking to build a tribe of dedicated followers, you want to take this course. Click “Tribe Writers” to register or join the waiting list, or click the logo in my sidebar.

In the interest of full disclosure, you should know that I’m an affiliate member of both of these courses. If you use these links, a portion of your tuition will be passed on to me. But I wouldn’t be an affiliate member if I didn’t believe in these programs, and I wouldn’t be recommending them to you if I wasn’t certain they work.

If you have any questions about either of the programs, you can email the founders, or you can ask me. I’d be happy to tell you more about my experiences in those courses.

Best wishes, and happy writing!

Four Words of Wisdom for the Graduate, or the Writer

My daughter graduated middle school this past week. Just putting my age in perspective, when I was in school, you didn’t graduate middle school, you just moved on to the next grade. Kids today celebrate every milestone. In some ways, I kind of think that’s the problem with the younger generation. They get participation trophies instead of earning their awards, no child is left behind (even if the child should be), and then when they become adults, they wonder why no one is handing them things anymore. They’re completely unprepared for the realities of life.

On the other hand, I say why not celebrate every accomplishment you can? Before too long, people will be looking for reasons to knock you down and climb over you on their way up the ladder of success. Might as well enjoy the successes while you have them and people are willing to celebrate with you.

As a parent, I know I’ll always be a cheerleader for my kids, no matter how old they are, no matter what they accomplish. My kids are quite successful, but don’t worry—I’m not going to use this as a forum to brag. Instead, I’m going to take some words of wisdom I picked up from the guidance counselor at the awards assembly. He said some things that I think apply to everyday living, and to the writer’s career as well.

1) Some people get older; some people grow up.

In life, that’s easy enough to explain. Some of the kids are getting older, but no more mature. His point is that it’s time to stop acting like a child and start being responsible. We all know that fifty year old who thinks it’s funny to burn rubber in the parking lot and is always causing trouble at work. That person didn’t grow up. Don’t be that person.
In a writer’s career, that’s also appropriate. Some writers never mature in their writing because they don’t put the time and effort in. You can say you’re a writer for years, working on that one manuscript that no one ever sees (and that honestly, you only dabble in once a month), but to become an expert, you must write often, and you must study the craft. Read books, attend conferences, work with critique partners, submit your work for publication. Only then can you, as a writer, mature.

2) The better we handle the word “no,” the more often we hear the word “yes.”

That, too, is self-explanatory as a life-lesson. People who have temper tantrums and negative responses to a refused request will not be looked upon favorably, and that will result in another “no” when a second request is made. A responsible reaction to a rejection leaves a positive image, and therefore requests are more likely to be answered with a “yes” in the future.
In writing, rejection can come in the form of negative reviews, bad critiques, or actual rejections from agents, editors, or publishers. Written or verbal replies to these rejections that are negative (or even worse, sarcastic or scathing) show the writer to be difficult to work with and unprofessional. Why burn bridges? Sometimes the rejections come with nothing but good intentions, offering ways to make your writing better. Other times, a no is a no. But in any case, you always want to leave people with a positive impression. That “yes” could be one submission away. And don’t forget—people in the industry talk. You don’t want your name being circulated for the wrong reasons.

3) When we forget life is short, we treat it like it’s not.

Don’t leave things for another time, only to find out that time was taken from you. People move on, sometimes permanently, and you may not have a chance to say or do something you mean to.
In writing, sometimes we get career-obsessed. I have to make word count today. I need to send more tweets. I’m seventeen likes away from one-thousand followers on Facebook. Yes, writing and platforming are crucial steps in becoming successful. But life is short. Take the time to actually live,too, or all of your hard work will have been for nothing.

4) There’s never a right time to do the wrong thing, and never a wrong time to do the right thing.

If you live your life by a set of high moral standards, you’ll feel better about yourself. You won’t ever get into trouble. And, in the grand scheme of things, you’ll come out ahead, even if you don’t get every small reward you think you deserve along the way.
In writing, the thing that keeps the plot moving is conflict. If a character isn’t faced with a choice or a dilemma, then there isn’t anything happening. The rule is for the heroes to always do right and the villains to always do wrong. Here’s the caveat: there are no rules in fiction that can’t be broken. Have your hero make a bad choice. Have your villain do something nice. It’s the choices that people make—and the reasons they make them—that make them rich, interesting characters to read about. It’s okay, even interesting, to get your hero in trouble, as long as you make things right in the end.

So, those were just some of the words of wisdom we heard at the awards ceremony. I batted back a few tears, shared some smiles and laughter, and applauded with the rest of the crowd when the kids got their awards. I can’t believe both of my kids are now officially in high school. Where did the time go? I think I need to work on number three. Life is short, and I want to embrace every second of it.

What words of wisdom do you have to share, for both life and writing?

First Friday Fiction Feature — Just Say Utah

It’s the first Friday of the month. Time for another fiction installment.

A link to this story, and all prior stories, can always be found under the “My Work—Freebies” tab.

Just Say Utah

“Oh, it is so on!” Patty said, glaring at her brother and his two friends.

The boys stood in the dining room, arms crossed over their chests, smug smiles on their barely adult faces.

Patty grabbed Dana’s hand and said, “Chelsea, come on!” She yanked on Dana’s arm so hard, the shoulder joint jerked in the socket. The girls followed Patty as she stalked to the den and grabbed a game off the shelf.

“Oh, come on,” Dana moaned. “I hate Trivial Pursuit.”

“Yeah, P. That’s lame,” Chelsea said.

“Did you hear them? They think that because they go to Carnegie Mellon they’re so much smarter than we are.”

“Um, Patty. I go to Carnegie Mellon, too,” Chelsea said.

“Yeah, but they’re seniors and you’re just a freshman.” It was winter break, and they were all home from their respective schools until spring semester started. Joey had been tormenting his sister mercilessly about going to a state school, while he and his friends went to an elite private school. She was obviously desperate, again, to prove to him that she was just as smart as he was, if not smarter. It was an argument that occurred between the two of them at least once a week when they were together. She somehow always lost.

“Patty Ann, it just snowed. We can pelt them with snowballs and then go sledding. I bet your mom will make cocoa. Or mine will.” Dana hated Trivial Pursuit with a passion.

Patty took the box and headed for the dining room. “Girls against… the dumber sex. And may the best team win.”

She plunked the box on the table and grinned at the boys. “Or are you chicken?”

“Against the three of you?” Joey laughed while Troy and Mike snorted and elbowed each other. “We’ll take our chances. We’ll even give you a handicap. How many chips do you want us to spot you?”

“We don’t need a handicap, thank you very much.” Patty set up the game and grimaced at her brother and his friends.

“Come on,” Mike said. “State school versus private? What chance do you have?”

“I go to the same school you do!” Chelsea said.

“Really?” Mike asked. “How’d you ever get in?”

Chelsea lunged at him, and Patty pulled her back. The two of them had disliked each other since grade school. Mike had looked up the skirt of her uniform from under the bleachers at a school assembly and taken a photo, and then he got suspended for it. He blamed her for his suspension although she wasn’t the one who told on him. Patty saw the game getting ugly before it even started.

“Let’s keep it civil, okay?” she said, looking right at Mike. “Team meeting before we start.” She gathered the girls together.

“What’s the plan?” Dana asked.

“We each need to focus on our strengths,” Patty said. “Chelsea, you’re a writing major, so literature is you. And maybe entertainment.”

“We should all be good at entertainment,” she answered, “if the questions are new enough.”

“They aren’t. This is the first edition. My mom knows half the answers.”

Chelsea and Dana both groaned.

“Okay,” Patty continued, ignoring the girls. “I finally got into my core classes this term, so I had two sciences in addition to my teaching courses. I’ll take responsibility there.”

“Sounds fair,” Chelsea said. “I just finished two world history courses, so hopefully I’ll remember something. And if the questions are more about sports and less about leisure, we should be good between the two of us.”

“Agreed,” Patty answered. Both girls loved and followed many professional sports, so she felt confident between the two of them. Then she looked at Dana, who wasn’t even paying attention any longer. Dana was a Philosophy major. What did Philosophy majors even study, anyway? She turned back to Chelsea. “How are you at Geography?”

“I suck. You?”

“No better. I guess that’s Dana’s area, then.”

“Huh?” Dana said.

“Forget that,” Chelsea said. “She can’t find her way across the street without a map, and then she can’t read it. We’ll just have to hope for an easy chip question then.”

“Okay, I guess we’re ready,” Patty said.

“Let’s play,” Chelsea said.

Patty nudged Dana and they turned to the boys and the board. “Roll to see who’s first.”

The game consisted of more trash talk and less civility than a trivia game would have on a winter break in someone’s home. Occasionally someone ran to the kitchen for drinks or snacks, but mostly the six students stayed glued to the table, riveted by the board and the cards. After three hours, the girls were up by one chip and had landed on the Geography triangle.

“Blue for the chip!” Patty said.

“Crap,” Chelsea said so only Patty could hear. “It’s Geography.”

“We’ll be fine. Listen to the question.”

Joey read the card. “What’s the only state in America to end with the letter K?”

“End in K. What state ends in K?” Patty yelled.

“Stop yelling,” Dana said.

“Don’t tell me not to yell!” Patty yelled, waving her fists in the air. “It’s for a chip!”

“Okay, so we’ll guess the answer,” she said, and munched on a pretzel.

“Guess the answer! You haven’t guessed one answer right all day! And we’re winning! We could go ahead by two. By two! And this is geography. Geography!” Patty said.

“So guess Utah.”

Patty and Chelsea both stared at her. Joey’s eyes bulged, Mike covered his mouth and Troy turned some noise into a cough. Patty suspected it was laughter, but she was too flummoxed to address it at the moment.

“I’m sorry, what? Did you say Utah?”

“Yeah. Utah.”

Mike also began coughing.

Chelsea said, “You heard them say ‘K’ didn’t you? The state ends in K.”

“Yeah, I heard.”

Patty looked at Chelsea, whose eyes were growing wider by the second. Chelsea shook her head to clear it, like she was clearing an Etch-a-Sketch screen.

Patty said, “Okay. Let’s start at the top and work our way down. Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont, New York, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Connecticut, New Jersey, Pennsylvania—”

“I’m telling you, it’s Utah.”

“Are you kidding me?” Patty said.

A snort burst out of Joey.

“Just say Utah.”

“Let’s start over,” Chelsea said. “Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont.”

“New York, Massachusetts, Rhode Island,” Patty continued.

“Just say Utah. It’s Utah.”

“Oh my God! What is wrong with you?” Chelsea asked.

“It’s Utah.”

“It. Is. Not. UTAH!” Patty said.

All three of the guys laughed at Patty’s outburst, but there was nothing she could say. It was ridiculous. If she heard ‘Utah’ one more time, she might shove the blue pie piece up Dana’s nose.

“Maybe if we did it alphabetically?” Chelsea said.

“Alaska, Alabama,” Patty said.

“You’re already out of order, genius,” Joey said.

“Shut up, Joe. At least I have a real major. I don’t just blow into a horn all day long.”

“Being a music major at CMU is harder than being an education major where you go, so blow on that,” he said.

“Well, I go to CMU, and I have a real major, so you both can shut up,” Chelsea said. Turning to Patty, she said, “I can’t do it alphabetically. There’s Alaska, Arkansas… too many Ks. Let’s start at the top again.”

“There’s Maine, New Hampshire,” Patty said.

“Vermont, New York, Massachusetts,” Chelsea said.

“Utah,” Dana’s soft voice chimed in.

Chelsea threw her head down on the table.

“I’m going to kill you,” Patty said.

“What?” Dana asked. Patty wasn’t sure if the innocence in her voice was true or if she was mocking her.

“Why in God’s name do you think it’s Utah?” Chelsea asked. “There isn’t a single K in the entire word.”

“It’s only four letters long,” Dana said.

Patty glared at her. “The question isn’t ‘What’s the only state with four letters?’ And by the way, Utah isn’t the only state with four letters, there’s also Ohio, so what is your obsession with Utah?”

“H is close to K. So I figured it’s probably a trick question, and the answer is Utah.”

“You think it’s a trick question?” Chelsea asked.

“There are trick questions sometimes.”

“And if this is a trick question, the answer isn’t going to be that there aren’t any states that end in K,” Patty said. “The answer will be Utah, because H is near K in the alphabet.”

“Well, when you say it like that it just sounds stupid.”

“You think?” Patty said.

“Now you’re just being mean,” Dana said.

“Shut up.”

The guys were laughing so hard that they had red faces and tears in their eyes. Patty ignored them. She and Chelsea went through all fifty states, including Utah, at least three times, but neither of them could figure out which one ended in K. It didn’t help that Dana was sitting there muttering “Just say Utah” under her breath as they recited state names.

After about twenty minutes passed, Joey said, “I realize there’s no time limit, but at some point you really need to take a guess.”

Patty refused to include Dana in the decision, but she looked at Chelsea, who shrugged. “I haven’t got a single idea. We’ve been through them all. We’ve been through the territories. I don’t know.”

Dana didn’t say any words, but she hummed four syllables that sounded like, “Just say Utah” in Patty’s head. Patty refused to acknowledge her. “Chels, what do you want to guess?”

“Your game, your call.”

Patty banged her head down on the table so her hair covered her face. She mumbled something unintelligible.

“Sorry, sis, we didn’t catch that,” Joey said.

“Utah!”

The guy hooted and hollered for a full five minutes before they informed the girls the answer was New York.

Patty was livid. Had Dana been quiet, they would have gotten it right. They had mentioned New York at least six times, but never heard it because of her ‘Just Say Utah’ mantra.

The girls never got another chip. The guys beat them within the hour.

Then the girls lured them outside and creamed them in a snowball battle. Patty might have hit Dana with one or two when she wasn’t looking.

Truth is Stranger Than Fiction

My husband is responsible for hundreds of people at the plant where he works. I won’t tell you his title. For one reason, it’s long and convoluted. For another, most of the words won’t mean anything to laypeople. And most importantly, I need to look it up to get it exactly right. It’s easier to say he’s the assistant plant manager, but really, it’s more complicated than that. On a good day, he has to make sure everything is on schedule, running efficiently, and up to code so there are no health violations. On a bad day, well, we don’t like to think about the bad days.

When the phone rings in the middle of the night, you know it’s a family emergency or a work emergency. You know it’s never a good thing. The phone rang a few nights ago, and it was a work emergency. All he told me before rushing out was that there was an accident on the docks. I knew it wasn’t family. And I knew it wasn’t good.

How do you comfort someone you love when you don’t even know what you’re comforting them for?

Hours later, he tried to sneak into bed, but I was awake, worrying for him and the unnamed victim of the accident. I asked him what happened.

A maintenance worker, whose uniform is dark blue, was working alone on the docks. The docks are dark despite the lights, and very noisy. It’s against the rules to be there alone, but he was there by himself. He had his back turned and was standing against the wall, working against the building. When the truck backed in, the driver couldn’t see him, and the maintenance worker didn’t see or hear the truck. He was pinned against the wall.

When my husband got the call, he was certain the worker had been killed.

But a series of unrelated circumstances resulted in a different outcome.

A different driver was supposed to be there, but this driver was waved into the property first.
The truck had a damaged bumper, and it was bent in right where the worker was pinned.
The worker’s arms were above him when he was pinned, and he was able to reach his radio and call for help.

The worker sustained only bruising. No internal bleeding, no broken bones. By all rights, he should have been killed, but fate, divine intervention, luck… whatever you want to call it spared him.

The driver of the truck was sick over the whole thing. My husband didn’t look too good after he got the call, and honestly, he looked shell-shocked when he got home. I was torn between laughing and crying, but just settled on thanking God for his intercession.

The thing is, from the writer’s perspective, they say write what you know, but sometimes you just can’t. Sometimes life just isn’t believable.

No one would ever believe that you could be pinned by a semi and live to tell about it. There are too many coincidences that worked in the maintenance man’s favor to help him survive, especially after he was alone, in the dark, in dark clothes on a noisy dock.

Writing what you know sometimes isn’t believable.

When my husband’s grandfather died (his father’s father), his mother’s two sisters missed the funeral, and we wondered where they were. They showed up at the wake to tell us that they were with their uncle who had just died. We had no sooner buried one family member, we were going to have to bury another. After his wake, we were decompressing at my brother-in-law’s house when we got a call that my father-in-law’s uncle had passed. That made three. Now, I grant you, that was two on one side of the family and one on the other, but that made three for us, back to back. We weren’t even able to grieve any longer. We were completely empty, void of tears, unable to even process the emotions.

If I wrote a scenario like that into a book, no one would believe it.

Truth is stranger than fiction.

So, draw on your experiences. Use your emotions. But choose expeditiously. A little reality goes a long, long way.

Do you have any “truth is stranger than fiction” moments that inspired a story? Care to share them, or how you changed them, in the comments below?