Guitar Mancer — Episode 22: Darla

We’ve reached Episode 22 of Teagan’s Guitar Mancer and Luci finds out a bit about her grandparents and mother.

Teagan's Books

Chevrolet Fleetmaster Woody ad 1947Chevrolet Fleetmaster Woody ad, circa 1947

What do you think about this old beauty?  No, it’s not from the era of The Guitar Mancer.  However, it is relevant to this installment.  It’s the kind of car Luci’s dad drove in his younger days.

Featured Blogger

Barsetshire Diary CoverAs you know, I’ve been trying to work “things” left by readers into this story.  That also allows me to promote the people who leave those things.  Meanwhile (and I promise this goes together) several bloggers are taking a break.  One of them is Lord David Prosser of the Barsetshire Diaries.  I’m honored that David is still taking time during his break to visit and comment here.  Back at Episode 16 David left some “things.”One of those things was druid, which I was able to add to this installment.

David has a number of delightful books available.  Be sure to check out his blog —…

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Broken Sign

This becomes funnier as you read it. Hilarious.

Myths of the Mirror

Broken Sign

First off, thank you to everyone who offered suggestions on my dragon book covers. Once again, I’m grateful to the lovely bloggers who people this virtual world. I can’t describe my gratitude for the friendship and support. :-) I tried every single idea and used most of them.

Special thanks to Nick (better known as Babbitman) not only for encouraging me to design different dragons for each cover but for actually doing one of them when I felt overwhelmed by the mere thought! He came through gloriously, and after he finished one, I was able to dismember and reassemble the rest.

Nick’s short story “Broken Sign” is a favorite of mine. Original, clever, quirky, and entertaining. I’ve closed comments. So just relax, read on and enjoy!

Broken Sign

There’s been a lot of talk recently about the dangers of artificial intelligence with luminaries such as Stephen Hawking, Bill Gates and Elon Musk warning…

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Beneath, Below, I Go.

A beautiful post of Richard Dankers’ work.

Richard M. Ankers

The sea rose in tumultuous swells rocking my small boat like a hammock in a hurricane. With each undulation I would rise up to God, stretch out my hands in prayer, only to be dragged away. The sky had never seemed so near yet so far.

I’d grown long past the point of uneasiness, my stomach having vacated it’s contents the previous evening. All that remained was my soul — I wasn’t ready to give it up without a fight. With no food and only half a bottle of tepid water, I knew time against me, but I refused to yield; I owed it to the others. That’s when I saw her. That’s when I knew hope.

She dipped up and down like a buoy brought to life, a demarcation to more hazardous waters — weren’t they all. I rubbed my eyes but only managed to knead salt into them…

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boatpilxr_-antiqued--Georgia Koch

Photo Copyright: Georgia Koch

Here we are for another week. Today we’re revisiting an old row boat pulled into shore. Our hostess for this weekly gathering is the talented and gracious author and artist, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. We’re the Friday Fictioneers group. Our challenge this week and every week is to write an original story with no more than 100 words not including the title. It’s supposed to have a beginning, middle, end, and follow the picture prompt for the week. This week’s prompt is a rerun originally sent in by Georgia Koch and requested this week by Dee Lovering. Thanks, Georgia, and Dee.

Congratulations to Rochelle on making the July deadline for the third novel in her series. The novel is entitled AS ONE MUST ONE CAN.

I’m sorry I missed the story last week. I was ill with a head cold. I’m feeling much better now.

I was satisfied with the story I wrote for this prompt the last time, so I’ve repeated it with just a couple tiny changes.

To read the other stories by the group members, just click on the link given below, then on the little blue frog in the blue box.

The link for this week’s stories is as follows:

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100 Words


I remember the day my ship The Happy Times was launched. It was a beautiful afternoon. It had rained that morning. There was some water on the decks, but I, Captain John, and my first mate, Jerry, felt it would probably dry off by noon.

We cast off into deeper water. It was calm so we decided at noon to prepare and eat our lunch.

When we happened to check below, we noticed a slight leak. Our plans abruptly changed, and we headed for port.

To others, it was an old row boat. To us, it was The Happy Times.




Written Act of Kindness Award





Street light--Al Forbes--August-21st-2016

Photo Copyright: Al Forbes

This story was written for Sunday Photo Fiction–August 21st, 2016. Each week the host, Al Forbes, provides a picture prompt. The challenge for each member of the group is to write an original story or poem with no more than 200 words, not including the title and inspired by the prompt.

I’m sorry I missed the story last week. I was ill with a head cold. I’m feeling much better now.

To read the other stories written by group members, just click on the link below, then on the little blue frog in the blue box.

The link to the other stories this week is as follows:

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 199 Words


Laura had long been meeting her beau, John, in the park. They’d played there as children. But then her father told her not to see John again. He’d chosen someone more suitable for her.

Her heart broke as she told John at their last meeting. The man her father had chosen was much older. She told John she’d be unhappy for the rest of her life. He told her his heart was broken also.

There was a dreadful influenza epidemic in the village. Many were dying. Laura’s father hired a nurse to take care of her. Money wasn’t a worry. Laura remembered little of what happened after she became ill. She did hear her father’s choice for a husband had died.

Well, she thought, I’m sorry he died, but now I won’t have to marry him. As the hours passed, she wondered about John. Her father would never mention him. She didn’t dare ask.

Now here she was once more beneath the same park lamp. John came to her and they embraced.

“Oh John,” she said, “Now we’re together forever.”

Her father stood and cried as her coffin was lowered into the ground near John’s grave.




Written Act of Kindness Award




Guitar Mancer — Episode 21: Mother

The mancers have more exciting adventures as they travel Route 66. Here is Episode 21 of “The Guitar Mancer–Mother”.

Teagan's Books

1966 oldsmobile Toronado ad1966 Oldsmobile Toronado, Motor Trend magazine’s Car of the Year

Hello my groovy friends. It’s great to see you again.  Back in 1966 Motor Trend selected the Oldsmobile Toronado as the “Car of the Year.”  It was a world away from another car from that year.  The television season of 1965 – 1966 brought a fantasy sitcom called “My Mother the Car.”  That titular automobile was a 1928 Porter Stanhope touring car. 

Unfortunately I don’t remember any of the show’s episodes (although you can find some full episodes on YouTube).  However, I do remember that it made me laugh.   As I said, nothing like the muscle cars I featured here as part of this serialized version of The Guitar Mancer.  Why bring up the old show at all?  It’s a far out hint about this installment.

Featured Blogger

Another blogger/writer who has been in the car since…

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Cool Water

A great story about Linda’s mother.


Half empty

Since I frequently mention Mother so frequently in humorous stories, I thought perhaps I should tell you more of her true nature. She lives in a quiet neighborhood on a corner lot, always busy working in her yard, which over the past thirty years, she has landscaped lovingly. For more years than I can remember, she has kept a cooler of ice water on her back porch, with cups, for any passerby, who needs a drink. She washes and reuses the cups, discouraging waste. Most days, she is on hand to greet the kids when they are getting in from school to ask about their day, encourage them, or just talk. Should she hear unkindness, she reminds them, “You can’t talk like that. How would you feel if someone called you that?” If a child tells her of being bullied, she says, “Tell your parents or teacher. If they don’t…

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Description—The Good the Bad and the Just Please STOP

This is an excellent post on writing description by Kristen Lamb.

Kristen Lamb's Blog

Odin The Ridiculously Handsome Cat Odin The Ridiculously Handsome Cat

In the last post, we talked about revisions and how often when we are making those next passes through we need to flesh, cut or refine our description. Can we be really honest about our description? Is it truly remarkable or just filling space? Are we weaving a spell that captures readers or are we boring them into a coma?

Okay, okay, do you have a point?

For those who never use description or very sparse description? Don’t fret. Description (or lack thereof) is a component of an author’s voice.

But obviously all writers will use some kind of description. We have to in order to draw readers into the world we are creating. If we don’t give them anything to sink their teeth into, they will wander off in search of something else.

So whether you are heavy or light on the description, here are…

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Kawanee’s progress in her words thus far.

Kawanee's Korner

Sorry, I haven’t been posting much, I’m still pulling my pieces together trying to find some glue. My old boss and family friend said he was authorized to offer me a job with the new company, I showed up and began filling out paperwork. The job looks interesting and it’s ground floor for something that has huge growth potential. During the discussion of the job, he asked is I felt like I was trapped here and that I was only taking the job because I needed the money.

Well YEAH! Kinda. I mean, I’ve been almost 8 weeks without a paycheck and thanks to some relatives and donations. I’ve managed to keep the lights on and the rent paid. That won’t continue forever and it appears as if the company isn’t coming through on workman’s comp. (or anything else) So I’m pretty hosed at the moment. I’ve got nothing here, no…

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