Libby Drew

It IS handy to have around. Although, not the safest tool to play doctor with, @drsawzall. Just sayin'.

Ha! Well, yeah. The clue's in your name.

Because you're smart. And also... you know me.

Best. Picture. Ever. Thanks for reading. So glad you liked it.

An incoming text message woke him. With a grunt, he rolled over and groped on the nightstand for his phone. When Maggie had upgraded her cellular plan a few months ago, she’d purchased a phone with unlimited data, and now Michael could count on at least one message a day from her, usually a rehash of whatever funny email had hit her spam account that morning. She didn’t limit her torture to one person, either—a small consolation. When Maggie had something to say, half of Hickory got a text

Right? They are perfect for that. Or for trying formats that don't really work for longer pieces of writing. For me, I love reading what any author can do with <10K words. I think some of those stories hold more power and emotion than books ten times that length.

Writing: Get in and get out. I write novels because they’re in demand. But my favorite writing project is a short story. It’s not often I get asked for them. Certainly not as often as I’d like, and I understand that. People want novels. But a good short story… chef’s kiss. To read is fun, but to create is divine. I encourage the site’s authors to give the short story form a try, if they haven’t. “Experts” say many of the same writing rules apply, whether penning novels or short form fiction. Meh. Maybe. I hate rules. I’m not sure I can advocate for them without feeling like a hypocrite. But here’s one thing I am always thinking about when I want to keep word count down: Enter late, exit early. Start the narrative at the latest possible moment. End it as soon as you can. How do you know when that is? Determine what is critical and include it. Don’t add what would be nice to know. Only incorporate the most vital elements. Be economical with your language. Minimum words for maximum impact. This is a great way to stretch your writing skills. Good luck! Life: This is Lucy.

Shut the front door! I learn so much here.

Right. It's a break-from-school sort of thing. Not long term. For now...

Complete BS, but Michael knows it. If this were a real life situation, he'd have a legitimate gripe for his union rep. Frankly, he can't bring himself to care.

Now... don't get ahead of yourself, darling. Though that is what Michael believes, to be sure. 🙃

Well, yeah. I think so. I'm come to believe it's pure human nature. It's not even malicious. Just the way the brain works.

There was no shortage of odd jobs. Parts of the diorama were dark and still, their trains stopped mid-track, some at stations, others on mountain passes. In these areas, Eric had stacked soft cloths and a hodgepodge of tools—hammers, screwdrivers and wire cutters. Sheets of lined notebook paper, filled with scrawls, could be seen propped up on toy-sized bridges and dams. Portions of the model still functioned. Since most loops ran independently of each other, it was possible to keep some op

TWO someones, as it happens. 😉

How long did you work on that sample sentence?

Remind me to never make Krista angry.

How could I possibly resist #132? That's comedic gold. Even if I keep it G rated.

Thank you for reading. Glad I could provide some nostalgia. Counting train cars must be like the license plate game... which is what we did to entertain ourselves in the car before the advent of smart phones, if any younger folks are wondering. 🙂

Thanks for reading! It DOES apply to Oregon, at least to the people in these parts. Which is funny, because I was born and raised in CA. To hear those things make me laugh.

Thank YOU for reading. I did this with my dad as well.

Me too! Thanks for reading.

I would've bet cash money it was posted here already. It's not, but clearly it was at one point. Thanks and happy rereading. 😉

My grandson came to work the line when he was fourteen, just like his father had done. “I’m going to drive trains,” he said to me the first day, “and nobody’s going to stop me. Not God. Not the Devil. Not anyone.” I told him, “You can’t ride the point until you bend some iron, boy. Only the lucky ones get to go places. The rest of us just throw the switches and dream.” Hank Carter Hostler for Reading Railroad July 1926 Chapter One Michael killed the truck’s engi

Michael feels trapped. In his poor, conservative hometown. In his dead-end job. In caring for his grandfather. Everything changes when he meets Eric, the new curator for the railroad museum. Carefree and refreshingly confident, Eric guides Michael to places he's forgotten, reminding him that it may not be too late to follow his dreams. 40,000 words.

I hope so too.