Am I a liar or not?

“Fiction is a lie, and good fiction is the truth inside the lie.” Stephen King

If fiction is the untruth and nonfiction is the truth, but fiction has some truth to it because it exposes truths of life, then am I a liar or not? I’m really confused.

Clearly, On Writing

Clearly, two things happen to me when I’m depressed and/or oppressed, the flood gates of writing open up for me and I write (type) my fingers to the nubs OR I climb under the bedcovers and don’t—write.

It’s the former, mostly.  Writing thus far includes:

• Still editing my newest short story collection.
• Wrote another short. Strange cookie, that one. And…

• Here’s an interesting thing. I pulled an idea for an MG book that I sort of outlined a few years back, and it’s also pour-eth forth.

Son

Thank you for all the well wishes and prayers for my baby son (who will be 37 on July 4) who had a stroke. He’s still hanging in there.  He’s home. We were first told that he would have to wait on therapy because the place he’s going to is a popular program and sought after and full. I AM NOT GOOD AT WAITING. But God has his hands in our situation, and my son will start OT and PT next week. Three days a week. Three hours per day. Intense. Again I ask (if you're a praying person) for your prayers again that he will stay with it and not give up.

Millie, The Challenge

Millie is my challenge in life. A recent vet visit revealed that she is more dog than I can handle at a whopping 7.9 pounds—up from 3.9 pounds on her first visit.

Lately, and I find this interesting, photos of Millie show her with green glowing eyes. This could be the proof I've needed that she is possessed by a green eyed demon.

 

Millie Vanilli hates her collar. Its pink diamond existence puts her into an upright coma state. Millie, are you in there? Come out of it, it’s only a strap of (pretend) leather with (fake) diamonds around your neck. I wore one similar in the seventies called a choker. Notice the absence of the green glowing eyes?)

 

Millie loves her bed, but chooses not to stay in it 24/7 like I would like her to or I would do, if everyone would let me.

 

Millie hates her collar. It makes her—sad.

 

Millie prefers her bed over her collar and invites you to scratch her (hot pink) belly so that she can bite you, without giving chase.

Millie found the bean bag in the kid’s playroom. She’s wonders if it would make a better bed than the other four she already owns.

 

Millie:

• Is scared of grass.
• Doesn’t let her short legs stop her from climbing in the dishwasher and licking the dirty dishes.
• Is deaf—to my hollerin’.
• Can do three tricks: Sit, shake your hand with her paw and (with great regret) stay. (I can do two tricks: scream loudly and run sort of quickly.)

Sorry that this post looks weird, but I redid it three times tonight and nothing helped. 


Also, I’ve neglected visiting your blogs, lately and will do better soon. Anything new with you all?