Dangers of Rice Writings

My children had the audacity to let me cook rice while writing. They should know better. Here I am, this innocent, sweet, naive writer attempting to undertake a new story AND feed myself at the same time.

After setting the timer for fifteen minutes, I coyly bounced into the waiting, loving arms of my computer chair. The screen was all ready set with Chapter One of The Giraffe Next Door, next in the Scout and Ellie chapter book series for 7 to 9 year olds, waiting like a happy, tail-wagging dog for her owner to get home.

All I had to do was jump in and start. And oh, what a beautiful start. I'd been thinking about the new love flame for Ellie, his personality, problems that may come up, and hilarious situations they could get into. Oh man, this is the good stuff for the writer.

I mean, can you imagine writing about that crazy elephant dating a giraffe? With Scout being forced into chaperon position? The fun of it is making me giggle as I write. That first scene, with the tree branch and a car sunroof--oh fudge, talk about a good time.

Who was I to blame if my time in author zone-out due to to bliss issues blocked my ears from ever hearing the timer go off for rice? I mean, for goodness sake, there were two teenagers in the house doing their own things in their rooms. They should have been watching out for their mother! If after all these years, they don't know well enough to not let me mix cooking with writing, well, I don't even know. If the house had burned down, and all of their stuff sent up in ashes, they have only themselves to blame.

So those two are just danged lucky that I actually remembered the rice only twenty five minutes after the timer had went off. The bottom of the pan was barely even scorched. And the fire alarms didn't even go off!

Okay, okay, okay. Now I know that you greedy readers are going to want a sneaky peek at what may or may not happen with Ellie and Udoka (that's the name my son and I agreed on for the giraffe. It means 'make peace with others' in one of the African languages). Well, there MIGHT just be an apple picking scene. And their might just be an apple flinging, giraffe neck, elephant trunk major fight going on. But don't get your high hopes up on that one. In this rough draft stage, who knows what will stay on the page. The possibilities are as unlimited as a spider contemplating a new web.

Whew. Writing is like the most fun a human can have on this earth. Well, no. First Place always goes to hanging with my boys.

And speaking of those radical kids, I'm going to have to remind them to make me stay away from the stove while writing. Playing with fire and words is too dangerous for this world to handle.

Heather Leigh,
writer in dangerous situations