There is a great, green field of knee high grasses being blown about by a combination of gutsy wind and oodles of rain. The angle of the rain before it hits the ground is barely a few degrees short of being parallel to the horizontal land. Beyond the field are pastures of piglets, goats, cows, one bull, and three horses.
It is a feast for my eyes for which I am thankful.
If only everything in life were so simple to describe. Yesterday, my sons and I drove for five hours to make an appointment. Being that the ride was through the rain, winding mountain roads, and plenty of dips and rises, I had to actually pay attention as I drove. The nerve. AND, as if being forced from a warm, comfy bed were not enough intrusion on my life, we had to leave at six thirty in the morning!
But don't worry, Gentle Reader (direct and intentional steal from Ms. Manners herself), I got my revenge on that trickster called human life: I stayed in pajamas today wearing my Christmas bunny socks. Sleep-in, no housework, kind of day.
You may be thinking that I am meandering around, poking in non-related paragraphs. But, oh, no. The joke is on you, oh Doubtful One. Being of revengeful mind, I spent the day writing my newest book. As it is about a couple who are not of the Earth but are living here anyway, it is a revenge on practical thinkers.
What does that mean exactly? Well, I am not sure. What I am sure about, is that it has actually made me have to think. Scary, but true. I have to conjure up what life for non-humans in body-less form would be like. And, figure out a plot for them to follow on their life-time on earth.
AND, being my first novel for adults (I quiver at saying adult novel, as then you may think I mean a naughty novel, which is not what I am writing.), I have to talk as an adult in the dialogue. With different perspectives from each character. Make it funny, yet grounded. Understandable without telling the reader everything that is happening, like a documentary.
Whew. Makes me want to go back to describing my backyard view.
One last thing that is difficult to describe, is why I associate tree frogs with my dear aunt, who passed away last year. They are not something that we ever discussed. Yet, every time I encounter one now, I feel giggly inside; somehow their cute, fat, laughable body shape and thin, straight mouth makes me sense that she sent them to me from beyond, as a way to get me to chuckle.
Last night, puppy Morris alerted me to one hiding on the side of our kitchen floor. Together, we trapped it under a plastic container and then rushed it to the front yard. I wondered what it thought, going from linoleum floor, to plastic dish, to wet grass and rain. As I heard the chorus of frog croaking of which he is sure to join, I sent a smile of gratitude to my aunt. She always could get me to laugh out loud.
Today I described my backyard view, challenging new book, and an aunt-derived frog. Feels like Sesame Street learning for the Writer's Soul.
Any descriptions you want to try? Post them in the comments section, I would love to read what you have to share.
Want to hear a kid laugh like my aunt still does for me? Buy a book from my Scout and Ellie series, They are just plain funny:
Scout and Ellie
Heather Leigh,
Author With Serious Intentions to Describe
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