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Spotlight on Lynette M. Burrows

February 16, 2025 by in category Apples & Oranges by Marianne H. Donley, Spotlight tagged as , , , ,

Lynette M. Burrows is an author, blogger, creativity advocate, writing coach, and Yorkie wrangler. She survived moving seventeen times between kindergarten and her high school graduation. Her stories weave her experiences into speculative fiction worlds that capture your attention, characters you root for, and action that keeps you turning pages.

Her Fellowship Dystopia series, My Soul to Keep, and  If I Should Die,  and a companion novel, Fellowship, tell the story of a world where the isolationists and fundamentalists merged after FDR’s assassination and created an America where even the elite can be judged sinners and hunted by the Angels of Death. They are in online bookstores everywhere. Book three, And When I Wake, is scheduled to be published in 2025.

Lynette lives in the land of OZ and is a certifiable chocoholic and coffee lover. When she’s not blogging or writing or researching her next project, she avoids housework and plays with her two Yorkshire terriers. You can find Lynette online on Facebook, or BlueSky (@lynettemburrows.bsky.social) or on her website.

Lynette’s Books

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Neetu Malik: Featured Author

February 14, 2025 by in category Featured Author of the Month tagged as , , ,

Neetu Malik’s poetry is an expression of life’s rhythms and the beat of the human spirit. She draws upon diverse multicultural experiences and observations across three continents in which she has lived. She has contributed to The Australia Times Poetry Magazine, October Hill Magazine, Prachya Review, among others. Her poems have appeared in The Poetic Bond Anthology V and VI published by Willowdown Books, UK,  NY Literary Magazine’s Tears Anthology  and Poetic Imagination Anthology (Canada).

Her poem, “Soaring Flames”, was awarded First-Place by the NY Literary Magazine (2017). She has also been nominated for the Pushcart Prize, 2019 for her poem “Sacred Figs” published by Kallisto Gaia Press in their Ocotillo Review in May, 2018.

Neetu lives in Pennsylvania, USA.


You can find Neetu’s poetry in these volumes.

Hover on the cover for buy links. Click on the cover for more information.


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Digging Deep by Dianna Sinovic

February 13, 2025 by in category From a Cabin in the Woods by Members of Bethlehem Writers Group tagged as , , ,

I can still remember watching Titanic shortly after it came out (late ‘90s). It was the climax, after the iceberg has done its damage and the unsinkable ship is sinking. Rose is lying on the floating debris, and Jack is about to succumb to hypothermia. In the sea of people surrounding me and a friend in the movie theater, we were the only two not sobbing. We looked at each other as the credits rolled, baffled at the teary response we were witnessing.

It was a powerful lesson in storytelling to realize that not everyone reacts to an emotional scene in a way the author (or director) hopes they will.

That varied reaction is one that plays out again and again in discussions with other readers—in my book group, in my movie group, and in my various writers’ groups. We each bring to the books we read and movies we watch a unique set of experiences that influence how we respond to the material.

When the emotional pull is deep, the power of the story can remain long after I finish the book or the movie ends. For me, a book that stayed with me long afterward was Atonement by Ian McEwan. The ending (spoiler alert!), when the reader discovers that Cecilia and Robbie, the young couple they’ve become invested in, actually died because of what another character did that put them in harm’s way, devasted me. I put off starting a new book for days because that story kept haunting me.

Another example is Mongrels by Stephen Graham Jones, about a teen boy who may or may not have inherited his family’s ability to become a werewolf. By the time the climax arrives, the reader is beginning to think the potential transformation will not happen. (Spoiler alert!) So when it does happen, the reader feels the relief viscerally, just as the main character does. I returned to that scene to reread it again and again, marveling at how it affected me.

Neither of these books may have affected you, but it was alchemy magic for me. Or, not really magic, but the skill of the author to build a story so that the emotional stakes for the protagonist feel so real and true that the reader can’t help but experience it along with that main character.

As a book coach, I can be impressed with and enjoy a story for a number of craft reasons—but the reader in me will fall in love with a book because of how it moves me.

According to Donald Maass inhis superb nonfiction book The Emotional Craft of Fiction, the key to moving the reader is making the emotional stakes clear—letting the reader see/understand why what happens is meaningful to the main character. When the important thing does happen (or doesn’t), we feel the impact deeply and it remains with us. “Focus on the emotional world of your characters,” Maass writes, “and you will not only make a better tale, but you will build a better world for us all.”

Let’s return to the movie Titanic. Rewatching that film recently, more than twenty years after my first viewing, my reaction to the climactic scene in the water was much different. I ran for the tissues. The movie hadn’t changed (Jack still died), but so it had to be me. Those intervening years provided enough love and loss to connect emotionally with the scene that played out.

Books By Bethlehem Writers Group

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What Inspires And Influences My Writing?

February 12, 2025 by in category The Writing Journey by Denise Colby tagged as , , ,

I recently presented on the topic of being a published author to a group of high-schoolers at a career day event. Asked where my inspiration for my writing comes from, I didn’t have a clear-cut answer. And that made me realize I needed to pay attention to what inspires and influences my writing.

What I did tell them was read. Read, read, read. And read in the genre that you want to write in.

And that part is true.

When I read a story that I absolutely love, I’m encouraged to write a story that I would love.

At least that is what I’m finding as I’m on deadline for book number three. Since I haven’t been reading as much, I believe that is impacting my motivation. And so I went back to one of my favorite authors and started her new series, which has been in my TBR pile for a while now. I’m finding it helping to give me inspiration as I write.

What am I reading? Karen Witemeyer’s Ever After Series

But back to the original question from the high-schoolers. What inspires and influences what I write? What else could I have said to pass on inspiration to this younger generation of writers?

I think it’s going to take some time to fully create a concise answer, but I have a clearer idea now.

What inspires me to write the genre I’ve chosen?

I write historical romance. I love to read this genre, too. But where did that love of this genre come from? Why did I decide to include a one-room schoolhouse (I do know this one – and I wrote a blog about it titled: It’s the One-Room Schoolhouse’s Fault).

But other than that I haven’t thought about this at all, really, it’s just what I enjoy.

And I’ve always been fascinated with history. I have a long, rich family history in my home town, that I love to research. My great, great, great grandfather was a mountain man (imagine finding a mention of him in Misty M. Beller’s book The Lady and the Mountain Man. Which I wrote about in another blog post called Finding Family Mentioned in A Novel.

Anyway, as you can see, many of these things have shaped my writing. And then I was in the check-out line at CVS this past weekend. And I bought this.

Denise M. Colby's writing has been influenced by her childhood favorites including Little house on the Prairie

The influence of my childhood favorites in my writing

I had a review mention that my stories had a Little House on the Prairie vibe to it.

There was a good reason.

I grew up watching this show and reading the Little House books (I’ve read them all). Those and Janette Oke’s Love Comes Softly and When Calls the Heart Series have inspired and influenced my writing even though I didn’t really realize it until recently. (interesting note: all had one-room schoolhouse’s in them).

So before I started writing this post, I brewed some tea and started to read through the magazine. I’m not even a few pages in and multiple thoughts are popping up in my brain. There’s a difference between real life and fiction. Actors and their experiences versus what their characters express in a story (move, tv, theater, book). Which is sort of what reading a book does. Escape into a different reality.

As a young girl, I had no idea about what an actor was. And it didn’t matter to me. I grew up watching Melissa Gilbert play Laura. I grew up seeing Laura as a girl near the same age as me experiencing all the emotions life brings out of us. And watching her pa encourage her, and have faith in her. Which encouraged me.

Isn’t this what our stories are about? Writing worlds and characters our readers can relate to and enjoy and want to be friends with. A chance to be encouraged, inspired, and loved on when taking a break from the real world with a good book.

It’s a good reminder as I finish this post and jump back to the next scene in my manuscript.

A few final thoughts on characters from stories we love

One of the things I have learned about myself is that I like to immense myself into my storyworld and feel all the feels, and write as if I’m the character I’m writing. I think this is why I love to have my characters write their own story a bit. They are real to me. Just like the characters in the books from Laura Ingalls Wilder inspire and influence my writing as well.

I’m glad I bought the magazine. I normally don’t. But I was looking for some extra encouragement and motivation. What I found was a reminder of what’s inside of me and where that came from. Now I need to figure out how to channel it to finish my story.

Do you know what inspires you and your writing?

Is there a specific book or show that resonated with you or that you pull from when you write?

Is there a genre of shows that influenced what you read and write?

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My annual embarrassing high school Valentine’s Day short story by Jina Bacarr

February 11, 2025 by in category Jina’s Book Chat, Writing tagged as , , , ,

Writers write what we know… even when it’s embarrassing.

Take my first kiss. High school. Drama class. Me, the shy new kid. And a snarky guy with a big ego.

Keep reading….it gets worse. 

Valentine’s Day is a time for kissing.

But what if your first kiss was just plain awful?

Meet Riley Murphy. She’s a kissing virgin, waiting for the right guy to come along. Until she joins the Drama Club at Holywell High and has to kiss the class dweeb on stage in front of the whole school on Valentine’s Day.

==============================

VIRGIN KISS

Jina Bacarr

Introduction

What’s in a kiss? A kiss by any other name is—

—sweet, romantic, intimate, passionate, wet, sloppy, disgusting, probing, awful, nasty, sexy, tingly, and sometimes just plain wonderful.

But what if it’s your first kiss? And you have to pucker up in front of a live audience at your high school? What then?

Pass the Altoids, please.

The kiss-from-hell happened to me, Riley Murphy.

This is my story.

* * *

A few weeks before Valentine’s Day…

I’m the new kid at Holywell High School, a shy, skinny freshman with cinnamon-colored freckles sprinkled across my nose. Flat-chested. I’ll never be Miss Popularity with the bouncy boobs and flirty lashes.

I’m more like an olive stuck on the end of a toothpick.

Even with that dossier, I’m not a total dork. I’ve gotten pecks on the cheek and quick brushes on the lips, but I’ve yet to experience the soul-melting kisses you see in the flicks. The passionate lip-lock I’ve dreamed about, wrote about in my diary.

I’ve pined for that kiss, but it’s yet to happen to me. God knows, I’ll be in graduate school facing lifelong debt before the right pair of lips meet mine.

To overcome my shyness, my mom convinces me to try out for the Drama Club. Somehow I land the leading role in a one-act Chekhov play.Yes, Chekhov.

I play this mad, beautiful countess with passion and heart. I love it. I come alive on stage. I can do anything, be anybody, say anything, I can—

—kiss the male lead?

A gangly sophomore named Harold Brimwell with long, greasy hair and an upper lip curled in a perpetual snarl. He’s going to anoint my virgin lips with my first kiss?

Forget the Altoids. I need a stress pill.

I quit the play. They can find another dupe. Not me. I’m not going to let him use my lips for kissing practice.

Then I hear this little voice in my head telling me this is acting. Going through the motions at rehearsals and on stage don’t count on the kissing scale. I can pucker up with Harold on stage and still be a kissing virgin.

Right?

After my pep talk to myself, I sail through rehearsals, knowing my lines and ‘connecting to my character’ according to the director. He says I’m a natural, my emotions raw but real. This is amazing. Me, Riley Murphy, the kid who’s always the ‘new girl’ at school because we move around so much because of my dad’s job, found something she’s good at.

Then the trouble starts.

The director insists on method acting.We don’t rehearse the kiss. He wants a real kiss on stage, not a phony smooch.

Worse yet, we open on Valentine’s Day with a preview performance at the afternoon school assembly. Not only do I have to kiss this guy, I have to do it on the most romantic day of the year in front of the entire student body.

I dump the Altoids… along with my confidence down the toilet.

* * *

Valentine’s Day dawns rainy and cold. Perfect weather for a Russian play.

I arrive at the gym early, put on my makeup in the girls’ bathroom then, with my hands shaking, I hook up my long Victorian black lace dress borrowed from the costume department, the silk petticoats rustling around my feet. I’m way nervous, but something cool happens as I run my lines over and over, my fear slowly dissolving into a shaky confidence as I slip into my character’s skin. Humming ‘I will survive’, I check my props, my fingertips tingling as I pull on my snug dueling gloves, then twirl the dainty parasol over my head like a spinning top.

I grab the small pistol for my big dueling scene, then heave out a big breath, praying I don’t drop it and everybody laughs at me.

I save putting on my lipstick for last.

First, I gargle mint-flavored mouthwash until my lips turn green and my mouth goes numb. Next, I line my lips with Chekhovian, dark red lipstick and smack them together. Perfect. I’m ready for my lip close-up.

It’s showtime.

I’m so nervous when the lights come up, I garble my opening lines. Then I trip over my own feet and nearly crash into the backdrop. Hot tears form in my eyes, but I want this too bad to give up now. All my life, I’ve stayed in the shadows. If I fail now, I may never get the courage to try again. I ignore the smirks and catcalls and swish my long skirts around like a real countess to boost my confidence.

I can do this.

Somehow, I get my groove on and my theatre training takes over. I sail across the stage, chin up, shoulders back, my voice clear, my lines down to a T. I’m ‘in the moment’. Much to my relief, the dueling scene goes off without the pistols misfiring.

Then it’s time for…

… the kiss.

I’ll never forget the expression on Harold’s face when he takes two long strides toward me. A mixture of sadistic pleasure and baddass ‘tude comes over his face, as shiny and sweaty as his palms, freaking me out. Lower lip snarling, my co-star gives me that ‘I’ve got you now’ look all fired up in his eyes, pinning me to the wall.

My teeth chatter. My mouthwash stops working.

It’s so quiet in the high school gym you can hear the director chewing on the end of his pencil.

My heart pounds so hard I can’t get my breath on when Harold pulls me into his arms, yanking me around like I’m a dollar store rag doll and then—

—he slams his mouth onto mine.

Bile rises in my throat as he pushes my lips apart and thrusts his mushy, saliva-coated gum into my mouth, making me nauseous. I swear if my dress wasn’t hooked up so tight, I would have ralphed all over him. Before I can push him off me, he shoves his tongue down my throat, way down, nearly gagging me.

I start choking.

I can’t breathe. Oh, my God, I’m going to pass out.

No, I can’t, I won’t. I’m determined not to faint. I have to get him off me. No gum-chewing, phony-macho sophomore is going to get the best of me.

I’m an actress, I tell myself, so act!

With stars circling around in my pounding head, I pull up my strength and kick him in the shin. There.

Startled, he jerks backward, but not before he bites my lower lip.

What the—

I taste coppery blood. Fresh, oozing, smearing my perfectly-applied lipstick. I’m in shock, disbelieving. It can’t get any worse.

Can it?

It can.

Dabbing my bleeding lip with my silk sleeve, I struggle in his arms, but he holds me tight, slobbering all over me, licking my face, my throat, coating my skin with stringy gum. My ears won’t stop ringing. The audience is going crazy, yelling and shouting like they’re at a basketball game and I’m the bouncing ball.

No, no, he’s not going to take advantage of me. I worked hard to get this part, learn my lines. Practiced how to walk, how to find the core of my character. Gosh darn, this is the first time in my whole life I’ve come out of my shell and done something really special.

He’s not going to ruin it for me.

I have to do something. Fast.

The pistol.

Where is it? After the mock dueling scene, I threw the prop gun down on the round table. It has to be there, but where?

I reach out behind me, my nails catching on the lace doily… I twist my head just a little… yes, I see it. I edge the gun toward me, an inch at a time. Sweat oozes down my too-tight collar and my knees buckle, but I don’t give up.

Almost got it… there. My fingers wrap around the pearl-inlayed handle. I suck in a breath then, without losing my nerve, I jam the prop into his ribs. Hard. I yank my body with such fury, I rip the black silk sleeve right out of the armpit. It slides down my shoulder, but it doesn’t stop me.

Get your hands off me, you sloppy-kissing, gum-chewer!’ I yell, ignoring the script and re-writing Chekhov. ‘Or you’re getting an “F” in drama class.’

The director gasps. Loudly. But he doesn’t refute what I said.

‘Yeah, sure,’ Harold stutters, letting me go, raising up his hands and backing away. ‘Anything you say, Riley.’

‘That’s telling him!’ a girl yells from the audience.

Amy Zanderbar. His ex-girlfriend.

She’s not the only one. All the girls stand up and start chanting, ‘Go, Riley, go!’

Wow. I hit a nerve with the females sitting in the bleachers who had their share of bad kissers.

They love it.

The audience starts clapping wildly and stomping their feet and continue chanting my name. I break the fourth wall and give them a ‘V’ for Victory high sign until the chanting dies down, then my thespian instincts kick in and I get back into character, giving Chekhov his due and ending the play as he wrote it.

I’ll always remember this night when a shy freshman girl in a borrowed Victorian dress took on a snarky sophomore and became empowered to stand up for herself in front of the whole student body.

It changed my life.

* * *

Epilogue

We performed the one-act play for the next few nights without further incident, faking the kiss each time. Harold is cool, not attempting any more way-out kissing. For me, it’s strictly acting.

I’m still a virgin in lip-land.

But I’ll never forget V-Day and my experience with the gum-toting, kissing bandit. Not a bad guy, just a rotten kisser.

And in case you’re curious, next semester I do find the right pair of lips to land that first kiss.

A hottie junior. Jack Dwayne.

When Jack takes me in his arms and lowers his face to mine, I quiver with anticipation and soon discover a kiss isn’t just a kiss, it’s…

… magic.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

——————–

PS — yes, Riley is me, a shy freshman back in the day.

The Princess and the Stilettos video https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5ELRFw_B720&ab_channel=JinaBacarr

Love Audio Books? My Boldwood Books are on sale at CHIRP!!

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