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L-Z Liburd

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Great blog post to help with up your motivation and productivity! #amwriting   #blogger   #writingtips  

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And it's happening to pretty much everybody, including me, which is why I just sort of sigh and close the tab when someone asks me, "Why don't you just go to the VA hospital?"

Me and about a million vets would be highly obliged if you were to reshare this. Much love.

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So that's what it was! 

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I've not done a #saturdayscenes  in forever! So here I am trying to get back into the swing of it. This scene is what started an upper #YA or #NA (I hadn't 100% figured that out yet) novel I'm currently working on. I don't remember what inspired it but a few weeks ago I pulled out my phone, opened my note taking app and voila! I hope you like it.

He noticed me in middle school. At the Winter Wonderland dance my mother forced me to go to when I was in the eighth grade. I stood on the side closest to the door. But still within the room enough to look as if I was in attendance. The friends I had in the room were all on the dance floor jumping and wiggling to the music. A couple move more successfully than the others.
He came over and stood next to me. He said nothing, just stood there. And every time I inched to the side, trying to keep space between us, he would close it instantly.
I wanted to scream at him to go away. To go back across the gym and back to his friends that snickered every time he moved. I couldn't do that though. Yell at him like I wanted. It would've drawn attention to me. I didn't like standing out too much. I made sure to always float in the middle. I made straight a's but was never the nerd. I ate lunch with the popular kids but partnered with the outcasts and the invisible in classes. I played it safe.
When I heard my name said behind me I jumped. I turned and found my mother hovering in the doorway, I couldn't hide the  smile that relayed my relief. The sentence of forced socializing was over; it was time to go. It's when I begin the move in her direction that he finally speaks to me.
"Hey, thanks for the dance."
With the sudden explosion of his voice I stumble over my feet. As I stand in place, caught between him to my back and my mother before me, I'm confused for a moment by what he said. But then I consider how we moved.
One, two,, two, three.
In an odd way we had danced. My first dance with a male that was not my father was jumble of steps and slides where I ran and he chased.
I wish I'd known then that would become a pattern for us.
But at the time I thought it funny so I laughed. First at myself, then at him when my laughter surprised him, making him suddenly shy. As I looked over my shoulder at him laughing, he was looking away as he rubbed the back of his neck. When my laughter subsided we stared at each other.
"You're welcome," I said before I turned to face  the exit.
I could feel the weight of his stare as I walked out of the gym to my waiting mother.

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I love this picture.

That is all.

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Why You Should Bake Eggs In Muffin Tins - Bon Appétit

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This is something all self-publishing authors should be aware of.
#indieauthor #writerproblems #writing

Independent Publishing and DMCA Abuse, or "How a Scammer Got My Book Blocked with Very Little Effort" via @bccamlls
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