Forty-eight Hour Day Needed

Fiorella is being pulled in too many directions.  She wants to finish off her novella and edit her short stories.  She wants to work on the house and the yard.  She wants to refresh her languages.  She wants to paint again. And she wants to play the piano and write more songs.

Fio needs a clone--half a dozen of them, in fact.

Always Trying to Make It Better

As you might have gathered, Fiorella has been looking over her old short stories lately.  Most of them still resonate so she's thinking of re-editing them and trying to get them published as a book.  Hey--maybe her agent could help with that!
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On the local front, the shelves on both sides of the fireplace in the den look good now so Fio is planning to move on to the shelves above the built-in desk--and she is merciless.
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Fiorella has been looking at some of her old paintings with an eye to touching them up, but just for her own sake.  She's never yet let a good piece of art rest in peace.

Can't Help It

As she lay in bed half awake this morning, Fio contemplated her literary career. It started with a four-line rhyme Mrs. Rider assigned the class to write in the third grade.  All Fio can remember of her offering is one line, "feathered Vs across the sky," which was her description of a bird migration. Then, of course, there was Baylor Children's Theater, which introduced her to scripts and drama.

In junior high, she wrote more poetry, mainly adolescent angst, and discovered comedy. That was also when, inspired by her mother's collection of Book-of-the-Month romances, she wrote the first chapter of a novel (which disappeared when Mother went through her desk drawer).

In high school, Fio penned playlets for presentation by the Latin club and the English literary club, wrote mounds of poetry, and ventured into short stories.   She also represented her school in ready-writing contests and edited the school Latin publication one year and the state publication the next.

Fiorella continued writing poetry, short stories, and essays through her undergraduate years, then added a romance novel and a dissertation to her repertoire when she was in graduate school.

And here she is now with two published books under her belt, a blog overflowing with mini-essays, about twenty short stories hanging around that she wants to re-edit, Lord knows how many poems scattered about, and more to come.

The girl can't help it.

Treasure Trove

 A Facebook quiz that purports to discern one's true occupation proclaimed Fiorella to be a natural-born writer. Well, duh!  Journalism, essays, poetry, short stories, novels--even songs and a short opera--Fio's churned it all out. Some of her stuff has been published, and some of it has won prizes, but most of it is stacked in shelves in her study, stuffed into filing cabinets, and locked into the bowels of her various computers--forgotten.

But Fio is now on a voyage of literary discovery because Husband has asked her to sort through her Documents file and reduce it before he transfers it to her new laptop.

It's like opening a pirate's chest and having a fortune in sparkling jewels spill out.

Triple

Fiorella has her laptop back!

It was a short, or several shorts, caused by one of the "print" ports breaking into pieces inside the computer when Fio got a little too forceful trying to push the cord into it.  But now Fio's precious is cleaned out and working again, she's scrubbed all the woodwork and cabinet doors in the kitchen, and, while was hacked into Husband's machine, she discovered some short stories she'd written a while back which, viewed with fresh eyes, looked pretty darn good.

So what Fiorella thought was a major tragedy turned out to be a win/win situation.  Her computer is cleaner than it's been since she bought it, her kitchen in shining bright, and those short stories look promising.

So actually it's a win/win/win situation.