Lost and Found Part 3

Today’s Writing 101 Prompt: Imagine you had a job in which you had to sift through forgotten or lost.

For inspiration, ponder the phrase “lost and found.” If you’d like to continue our serial challenge, also reflect on the theme of lost and found more generally in this post.

In your “lost and found” tale, tell us something larger — a life lesson, perhaps — about finding and losing .


For the previous two installments of this story click on Part 1 and Part 2.

My illness wasn’t solved by one hospitalization. It took several more hospitalizations and then, to finally find the right medication.

Making it more difficult for me to heal from my mental illness was the fact that I did not have the support of my family. Some of them believed I was faking it, all of them were ashamed of me, and a few thought my depression was merely me feeling sorry for myself. That was a lot of baggage to place on me when I was already severely unstable. This type of treatment by family was one of the worst things they could do to me because it practically guaranteed I would not be able to heal or if I were to heal it would take much much longer.

All of my hospitalizations seem to “melt together.” I remember two women introducing themselves to me,

“I am Mary had a little lamb whose fleece was white as snow.”

“I am Merry Merry quite contrary, how does your garden grow?”

I remember the young man that had fried his mind using the drug, LSD, who now could only sit in a corner all day and play with himself. I remember the young woman that stayed in her room all day and made herself “feel better.” I remember the young lady who couldn’t talk anymore. I remember the friends I made while being hospitalized.

I also remember the “camping trip therapy” that I attended with my two besties from the hospital.

They took us somewhere in Utah and gave each of us a gallon of water, a tarp, and a sleeping bag. That was it. We were to go off by ourselves and set up a camp and sleep there all night (alone). I set up my camp in close proximity of a very old Anasazi Indian ruins, so the Indian Spirits would keep me safe all night. (The Anasazis are an ancient Indian tribe that have gone extinct. They built their homes on the sides of very high cliffs). I also made sure I could see the two camps of my two friends. I remember being afraid that bugs would get into my sleeping bag and wasn’t able to sleep because of that fear.

The next morning we all stumbled back to the main camp for that “much desired” cup of coffee. I remember how good it felt to make it all night sleeping alone in the wilderness. And, I remember how how hungry I was after not eating for 24 hours.

The purpose of this camping trip was for us to get in touch with our spiritual side.

I remember on our way back to the hospital and all of us campers being very tired because none of us were able to sleep. We stopped at a cafe on the way to take a break. There was a shiny black car parked in front of this cafe. We could see ourselves in the shiny black paint and our bodies appeared grotesquely distorted. We all laughed until we cried at our distorted images in this car.

Finally, my biggest breakthrough from my mental illness came during my last hospitalization and my psychiatrist put me on anti-depressant medication. Once we found the right dosage, I could finally see an end to my suffering. Although I couldn’t understand why my previous doctors had not put me on this medication, I was elated to find a medicine that could actually help. Sure enough, it was a chemical imbalance and we had found the right medicine to solve that imbalance.

After years of suffering through this painful mental illness, I finally reached the light at the end of “my” dark tunnel. Finally!



Assignment 6: Character Study

Here’s the deal. We’re suppose to be writing about interesting people, specifically, the most interesting person we have met this year. But, I am not.

I have met tons of interesting and wonderful people on the internet. However, I have decided not to write about anyone whom I have met over the internet. Instead, I decided to write about my cat.

She was a little tiny fur ball when I got her from the neighbor’s friends. She was extremely shy and usually stayed underneath the big armchair. She would come out from her hiding place when she would wake up from a nap and want me to hold her. Much like toddlers do when they wake up from a nap.

I had two dogs and she became close to one of them. She noticed they were going through the doggie door and she soon started following them out the doggie door. She figured out they were going outside to potty so she started going outside to potty. (I loved that!)

By the time she was a “teenager” in cat years, I realized that she was a feral cat. She wasn’t feral with me or my dogs, but she was 100% feral with everyone else. Apparently, her mother had been a feral cat. Everyone in my family hated her, but I loved her. I thought of her as my “special needs” cat because of her temperment.

Her favorite thing to do was to hunt. She loved hunting the birds outside and the mice inside. She was a great mouser.

When she would lay on top of my bed, I would go up to her and kiss her face and she loved it.

She would walk around with her tail sticking straight up and come by me and touch me with the tip of her tail. That was her communication to me that she wanted to be fed.

During the winter she would come get me and take me to the doggie door (in other words telling me she wanted to go outside but the weather was bad). LOL! She wanted me to change the weather so she could go outside to hunt. She didn’t understand that I had nothing to do with the weather. But to placate her I would start playing with her inside. I would pretend I was trying to find her and that she was hiding from me (when she had her face hidden by the furniture or the drapes, she thought she was invisible). I would pretend that I was looking all over the house for her. She loved playing that game.

She was nocturnal and her main time for hunting was at night. When the weather cooperated, she would be outside during the night doing her hunting and prowling thing.

When she was over six years old, one morning, she did not return. She knew when I woke up and would always comes home at that time. I went everywhere looking for her. I kept in contact with the animal shelter, put an ad in the paper, and went door to door. There is a vacant lot behind my home which is near the river; I went all over the lot trying to find her body. I did not find one.

Then I found out something which devastated me even more. Certain people with a certain organization took her and either gave her to one of the farmers to have as a barn cat or got rid of her. I cannot tell you how I found this out, but it is true. I no longer have anything to do with these people. (Wolves in sheep’s clothing). I have no way to find out which farmer she went to (if she did) or any other information beyond what little information I have found out.

So, this is my interesting character; my beautiful and beloved cat, Sassy. I hope she is having a good life somewhere, or if she is no longer alive, then may she RIP.


Writing 101 Free Write

Last Friday, my little dog, Bria, went to the veterinarian to have three teeth extracted and four warts removed. When I picked her up to bring her home she was still groggy from the anesthesia. I placed her on the ground and she kept trying to go the wrong way and I would help her get on the right track.

About 2 hours later she was completely out of the anesthesia and was feeling pretty blue because her mouth was hurting and her little body was sore from where they removed the warts. Normally I wouldn’t worry about the warts but every time she is groomed the groomers lop off her warts and that bugs me. One wart on her leg always bugged her and she would constantly lick it, making it bleed. Last Friday, the doc put an end to that.

She is getting a lot of extra TLC and she’s really liking that. Today she is feeling much better but I’m thinking she may not “want” to feel a whole lot better because then the babying will end. Naa, I’ll keep babying her for awhile longer for having to go through what she had to go through.

This is suppose to be a “free-write” and I still have 15 minutes left. :o(

Although today is Easter, it has been a laid back Sunday for me.

Because the weather is getting so nice I am having to call in my yard helper to help me shape up my yards for spring/summer. Hopefully, I won’t need to start watering for awhile. I don’t look forward to that. However, I do look forward to getting the leaves and anything else that has blown in, cleaned up.

He is also going to help me clean my storage shed. At the end of every winter it is a disaster and at this time each year, needs to be re-organized.

I am taking Writing 101 again because I need it. I don’t think I can get too much help with my writing and I am always looking to improve. I look forward to this class, once again. If any of you reading this is also taking this class, take a minute to comment and say hi as I would like to say hi to you. If you are not taking this class, no problem! Stop and say hi anyway. I would love to read your comments and respond back to you.

I have 5 minutes left of my timed “free writing” excercise.

I have run out of things to say so I am going to end it here at the ten minutes mark. Thank you for reading my “thoughts!”

Ryan Lance Writing Prompt 3-9-2015 III

There is Hope

Feeling tired and sullen, Elisa went into the sitting room to lie down on the sofa and noticed Reesey had left his hockey mask when he went to visit his daddy.

That is all it took for her to burst into sobs.

Dammit! I didn’t want this. I didn’t want our marriage to break up and our little boy to have to be packed up and moved back and forth between us. It isn’t fair. It isn’t fair to him and it isn’t fair to me.

Suddenly the phone rang and jarred her from her lamenting.

“Hello.” She said, trying to hide the fact she had been crying.

Reese’s daddy, Jude, was on the other end of the phone.


“Hi Jude.”

“Are you doing okay?”

“About as well as you could expect me to be.” She flippantly retorts.

Elisa was angry. Why is he calling and playing these games with me? My heart can’t take it anymore. He was the one that wanted to leave, so he left. Why add salt to the wound?

“I found those two concert ticket stubs you were looking for.”

“Oh. Where did you find them?” She asked, with forced enthusiasm.

“They were in my jeans pocket.”

“I was going to put them in our family scrapbook, but I guess I don’t need to do that anymore.”

“Elisa, that is the reason I am calling. I want to… I need to tell you I’m sorry. I really don’t want it to be this way. I want us to be a family. I don’t know what got into me. We need to talk. Will you go on a date with me and Reesey?”

Elisa was shocked speechless. What should I do? Should I allow myself to get my hopes up?

Her heart had been broken and she did NOT want to give him a reason to break it again.

“I don’t know Jude. You know I didn’t want this separation to begin with, you did. I can’t let you hurt me anymore.”

“I know Elisa. Please forgive me. Will you give me another chance?”

At that moment there was scuffling noise at the door and suddenly someone was jiggling the door knob. Startled, Elisa jerked her head up just as Jude and Reesey walked through the front door. Jude was holding a long stemmed red rose, and Reesey came running into her arms.

Elisa looked into Jude’s eyes and saw they were filled with tears that were spilling down his cheeks. Happy tears began to fill her eyes too.

The two loves of her life had come home. This time to stay.


Ryan Lance’s Writing Prompt 03-09-2015

Include all these elements into a scene: a hockey mask, hope, a rose, and 2 concert ticket stubs



Not a Green Light – Writing Prompt

Not a Green Light

“I honestly thought the light was green, officer.” I pleaded to the patrolman.

He continued writing out my ticket, clearly upset with me for running a red light. Looks like there would be no getting out of this one.

“I know that isn’t an excuse and I deserve to get a ticket sir, but I am asking you to go easy on me.”

He looked up from his clipboard and gave me the stink eye and grumbled,

“You could have killed someone by running that red light, or you could have killed yourself and you’re asking me to go easy on you? You aren’t very smart.”

He ripped the ticket off the clipboard, handed it to me along with my driver’s license and gave me a half cocky smile,

“I don’t go easy on people like you. You need to be more careful and pay attention to the color of the lights. Show up in court on the date written in on the ticket. I’ll see you there.” With that said, he turned around and went back to his motorcycle and sped off to catch the next lawbreaker.

I laid the ticket on the passenger seat and carefully pulled my car away from the side of the road, making sure no other cars were coming.

He is right and I know it. I should be more careful and pay attention to the color of the lights. I need to get my head out of the clouds. All I can think about is the book I’m writing. I could have killed someone or hurt someone, including myself.

Now that my car was safely back into the lane of traffic, I felt a smile spreading across my lips.

This is just what I needed for a scene in my book. One of the characters is pulled over by a state patrolman on her way to her wedding. Now I have all the little details to make that particular scene realistic.

Ryan Lance’s Writing Prompt 3/9/2015

* Begin a scene with this line: I honestly thought the light was green.


Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

I am excited that so many people are interested in participating in the new flash fiction challenge created for aspiring writers:

“Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers”

All the details are in the new site, please click on the url above and it will take you into the new website. Please follow this site to receive instant email messages.


25 April 1902

Dearest Mother,

Phillip and I arrived on the Caribbean Island of Martinique on April 20. Our ship was a week early due to favorable winds and weather. I am certainly not one to complain. My excitement can hardly be contained. Finally! We are on a Caribbean Island for our honeymoon.

I'm still in a daze from all the beauty! I cannot wait to see more. Phillip is now with the officials of the hotel planning our day trips while we are here. I am so excited, I want to see everything! I am suppose to be resting but I assure you that is not possible for me right now.

I love you and will see you soon. I hope you receive this letter before we get back home!




28 April 1902

Dearest Anne,

I am not sure this letter will reach you in time but I must write anyway. Your father has taken ill and we must leave for Atlanta tomorrow. Dr. Amos wants him to see a specialist there but I do not know what on earth for. Please keep us in your prayers.

With Love,



08 May 1902

Dearest Mother,

Phillip and I have been having a wonderful time but something is happening with Mount Pelee. It is spewing steam, spurting gaseous flames, raining ash with violent shocks and rumbles. The locals say that it happens every few years and we need not be afraid, but mother, I am afraid. I am trying to get Phillip to leave early but he says there is no need, according to the locals.




05 May 1902

Dearest Anne,

Your father and I just returned from Atlanta and I'm afraid the news I have for you is not good. Your father has cancer and the specialist thinks he only has six months to live, if that long. I am so distraught, I don't know what to do. I do so wish you were here.

With Love,



15 May 1902

Dearest Anne,

Oh my precious daughter, I pray you and Phillip are on the ship on your way home now. We just heard that Mount Pele'e is erupting violently and that almost 30,000 people were killed on May 10. I am terrified for you and Phillip, my darling. I hope and pray you and Phillip are on the ship and headed home now. You are both in my prayers and I pray I will see you soon.

With Much Love,



Almost 30,000 people were killed by the volcanic eruption of Mount Pelee on May 10, 1902. There were warning signs; steam, light earth shocks and raining ash prior to the eruptions but the Martinique people did not heed the warnings.


  • Prompt: Write a scene about a volcano that has never fully stopped erupting.

This is my submission for Ryan Lanz Writing Prompt: Volcano


Friday Fictioneers Feb 11, 2015

This home is third generation. My great grandmother lived here with her husband, then my grandmother with hers. My mother, however, eloped with her husband and they chose to live in New York City. As soon as I graduated high school, I ran as fast as I could to live in Georgia, the most beautiful state in the union.

After five years of marriage, my husband said it reminded him of a prison and left to find greener pastures.

As I sit on the old front porch and rock, I stare at the shadows and think, “My Eden, his prison.”

Friday Fictioneers is a challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. She give us a photo prompt and challenges us to write a story of 100 words or less.

Would you like to join Friday Fictioneers? Please click on the following link:

Rochelle Wisoff-Fields – Addicted to Purple



First Light: Words

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “First Light.”

With my mind full of cobwebs, my bladder screams into the fogginess of the webs, jolting me awake to get up and take care of it. It’s cold. I can’t sleep if it’s too warm. Immediately I pull on my ridiculous but ridiculously warm, one piece pajamas and stumble into the kitchen to turn on the coffee pot. With that comforting and familiar sound of the coffee rumbling into a delicious brew, I turn on the morning news and next turn on my computer to sift through the WordPress emails that have flittered in during the night before.

I’m thinking, I might need toothpicks to hold up my eyelids. Okay, maybe not. I take a drink of the hot liquid and my mind gradually snaps into the present. I begin laughing, ooouuing and ahhhing over all the wonderful words that have filled my inbox. I delight in reading and answering them.

Can you see me? Can you see my lips formed into a permanent smile as I read your post and view the photographs you have so artistically taken? Do you feel what my heart feels when you say something profound and heartfelt? Do you feel the closeness toward me that I feel toward you when I am reading your words that you so creatively and lovingly woven together just for me to read?

It is through our words, our beautiful words, that we share our own private world and friendship with one another. I sincerely hope my words are as beautiful to you as your words are beautiful to me.

Rattle Snake River

Diamond Jack had his hideout next to the Rattle Snake River in Latchahatchi County, Texas. My grandpa use to tell me stories about Diamond Jack and his motley gang. His legend began in the early 1800’s during the time folks were moving west to homestead land in order to own the title free and clear. Diamond Jack and his outlaw gang would lie in wait hiding and hold up the unsuspecting wagons as they were coming through.

Legend has it that as the gang were coming around a hill to surprise a wagon train, they were met head on by a tribe of Apache Indian warriors that shot the gang members with poison arrows, damn near skinned them alive before they could take their last breath. Everyone said that thieving gang got just what was coming to ’em and no tears were shed for their brutal demise. One wagon train coming through found their rotting bodies, all of em’ missing their hair. (150 words)

Monday Finish the Story Challenge. Write a story of 150 words using the photo prompt and the first sentence of, “Diamond Jack had his hideout next to the Rattle Snake River.” Link your story’s url to inLinkz little blue frog for, Monday’s Finish the Story, which is kindly hosted by Barbara. If you would like to join in this flash fiction fun, click here for more information.