Step in a Puddle and Splash Your Friends Day by Jina Bacarr

January 11, 2019 by in category Jina’s Book Chat, Writing tagged as , , , with 2 and 0
Home > Columns > Jina’s Book Chat > Step in a Puddle and Splash Your Friends Day by Jina Bacarr

Romance under a umbrella . . . you never know what’s next. A kiss, perhaps?

Yes, we’re going to have rain for a few days here in So Cal! This is good news for our ice packs in the mountains and conjures up dreamy days of writing with warm, chicken noodle soup in one hand and the sound of raindrops accompanying our happy keystrokes.

Ah, if only writing was that easy.

It isn’t. It’s grueling work, rewriting, recasting characters at times, rejection, then revise. A lot of “Rs” in that sentence, but would you have it any other way?

In a perfect world, maybe. But in a perfect world there’s no room to grow, no new corner to peek into and find another angle to a story, no misstep that takes you down a new path, no angst that brings life to a story, no heart.

So as we embark on our days’ long rainy weather, grab that chicken soup anyway, enjoy the raindrops tapping against your window, and write.

Rain can be the chicken soup for your story, but hard work makes it happen!

Jina

PS — last month I talked about Instagram: here are some video poems I’ve made recently:

View this post on Instagram

Here is the prince from my #poetryatworkday video

A post shared by Jina Bacarr (@jinabacarr) on

Author Details
Author Details
I discovered early on that I inherited the gift of the gab from my large Irish family when I penned a story about a princess who ran away to Paris with her pet turtle Lulu. I was twelve. I grew up listening to their wild, outlandish tales and it was those early years of storytelling that led to my love of history and traveling. I enjoy writing to classical music with a hot cup of java by my side. I adore dark chocolate truffles, vintage anything, the smell of bread baking and rainy days in museums. I’ve always loved walking through history—from Pompeii to Verdun to Old Paris. The voices of the past speak to me through carriages with cracked leather seats, stiff ivory-colored crinolines, and worn satin slippers. I’ve always wondered what it was like to walk in those slippers when they were new.

THE ORPHANS OF BERLIN

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THE ORPHANS OF BERLIN

THE LOST GIRL IN PARIS

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THE LOST GIRL IN PARIS

RESISTANCE GIRL

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RESISTANCE GIRL

THE RUNAWAY GIRL

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THE RUNAWAY GIRL

HER LOST LOVE

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HER LOST LOVE

A NAUGHTY CHRISTMAS CAROL

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A NAUGHTY CHRISTMAS CAROL

A SOLDIER’S ITALIAN CHRISTMAS

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A SOLDIER’S ITALIAN CHRISTMAS

COME FLY WITH ME

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COME FLY WITH ME

LOVE ME FOREVER

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LOVE ME FOREVER

SISTERS AT WAR

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SISTERS AT WAR
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I discovered early on that I inherited the gift of the gab from my large Irish family when I penned a story about a princess who ran away to Paris with her pet turtle Lulu. I was twelve. I grew up listening to their wild, outlandish tales and it was those early years of storytelling that led to my love of history and traveling. I enjoy writing to classical music with a hot cup of java by my side. I adore dark chocolate truffles, vintage anything, the smell of bread baking and rainy days in museums. I’ve always loved walking through history—from Pompeii to Verdun to Old Paris. The voices of the past speak to me through carriages with cracked leather seats, stiff ivory-colored crinolines, and worn satin slippers. I’ve always wondered what it was like to walk in those slippers when they were new.
  • adajonnassen2161 says:

    Comrade! You gave me a wistful smile.

  • Jina Bacarr says:

    Hey, Ada, thanks for stopping by! Glad you enjoyed the post.

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