This weekend, Trifextra is Over The Top…or they want us to be anyhow.
In the spirit of Andy Rooney’s 50-50-90 rule, Trifecta has asked us to come up with our own probability equations.
This week, Trifecta wants us to add 33 words to “on the count of three”. I want you to follow those links above and vote for two of the most amazing authors I know. I may throw my hand into this contest (I’m feeling intimidated and like I don’t have anything, and I hate competing, so I may let the anxiety win this round, we’ll see) but these two already have, and they so ROCK.… Read the rest
Robert Frost one said, “In three words I can sum up everything I’ve learned about life: it goes on.” We want you to do the same. Sum up anything you want, but do it in three words. Your response should mirror Frost’s quote by beginning, “In three words I can sum up everything I’ve learned about–.” And the last four words are yours to choose.
In three words I can sum up everything I’ve learned about careers. I must write.
In other news, Trifecta is going to start offering critiques.… Read the rest
Dear Trifecta, thank you for letting me abuse your meme to advertise my novel again. Dear readers, that’s my novel’s last line, but if you think it’s a spoiler, you’re dead wrong. Take a chance on an e-book, and I think I might just convert you to electronic tomes.
Trifecta wants us to talk about one object with three uses this weekend. Come play with us. Or cross my palm with silver. Whichever.
The editors at Trifecta reminded us that 43 years ago yesterday, Neil Armstrong took his famous moon walk (which is different from a moonwalk; but I digress). They challenged us to write 33 words about a giant leap. Mine is not for humankind, but for myself. And it is coming. (And to be clear, because in my family ones needs to be clear around certain subjects, if things go right, it will be a POSITIVE leap.… Read the rest
“Horrible.” I took another bite of cereal.
She turned to our mother. “I think he died last night.”
“Nichole Ann, that’s rude.”
“I’m serious Mom!” Nikki balled up her fists. You don’t have to walk past him every morning. Why did you even ask him to come?”
“Walter’s only been here three days, and he’ll be up soon. Show some respect.”
“Respect. Hah. He’s dead.” Nikki grabbed a bowl and sat beside me.
Uncle Walt always stank. He called himself a ‘bath optional’ kind of guy. My first memory of him is throwing up from the stench when he picked me up.… Read the rest