Doree Anderson

I'm so excited...my erotica novel placed second in the Great Expectations contest and the publisher has requested my full manuscript. YEAH. With everything that a writer has to go through, the request of a manuscript is wonderful. It is like being a small mouse and waiting until the time that the big cat actually puts its paws around in a welcoming embrace instead of playing you like a toy. Tomorrow is April Fools day. What will I do? What will I do. Well, I have plans and they are going to be scrumptious, yummy and filling. And if I win at Bunco, well, that's just all the more better. A little pocket money to see me through the week will be the topping on the whip cream of my life. As we move into the month of April, I am especially looking forward to Spring. Not this...now you see it, now you don't garbage, but the real, leave your winter coat in the closet deal. We gotten a test, but I ready for the whole meal. Just like last year, we get out and do a little work in our

The Pain of Grand Parenting I think the world of my four grandchildren. They are absolutely the love of my life. And, after one day with them, they still are. Two days is pushing it. I don't know if they get on my nerves or if I am one great big nerve to them. My daughter brought the darlings over on Friday, at 2:00 p.m. I am a saint. I know because I had them through to 1:00 p.m. on Sunday. The two older kids are at the 'now you see them, now you don't' ages of 9 and 7. They love their video games and the internet. Okay so, they're easy. The other two are 3 and 2. Both boys, both out to drive grandma insane. They want, they don't want, they need, they have to have, please, please gammy, please. Can we go outside? Ten minutes later, one or the other, or both are crying. Why. He pushed him or he took my... Can we watch a movie? Can we go outside? can we... Night one, all is well. They go to bed. Those cute little darlings. So sweet. Look at them. One sucks his f

Here it is: SPRING HAS ARRIVED! So, How are we spending the first day of spring? We are cleaning out the birds cages. Yes, birds. We have three of the cutest Cockatiels that we enjoy, well, most of the time. But they do not follow orders worth a tink. I have asked them on several occasions to pick up after themselves. But, do they do it? No. There are seeds all over the place. I talk, they don't listen. I show them how it's done, to no avail. Our oldest is thirteen, a male white face. As cute as a bug this boy is. Although, as will almost all small creatures, he is dilutional. Spike believes that he is an eagle (we've shown him pictures but until we can actually place him face to face, it irrelevant. Gilligan is his little buddy.(Yellow or Pied, eleven years old) Sad to find out thought, that she was a she. This birds takes the meaning of 'bird brain' to life. Gilly will stand on top of a mug of coffee, lean down, take a sip, yipe because it is hot, and go in for se

"People on the outside think there's something magical about writing, that you go up in the attic at midnight and cast the bones and come down in the morning with a story, but it isn't like that. You sit in back of the typewriter and you work, and that's all there is to it"...Harlan Ellison Writers write because we can, we need to, we have to. Or, because, why not? When I write, I try and envision what my goal is as I set up my characters and their GMC; Novella, novel, short story or just putting ink to paper and doodling. But, it is what I see that goes down. Not what someone tells me to write. Example: Write a story about the Botanical Gardens in Arizona. No. Why not? Because, I've never been to the Botanical Gardens in Arizona and therefore I can't pretend and frankly, the only words I'd be able to supply are:"It's probably a very pretty place with lots of colors and smells." Now...talk about wri

Care to take a trip? Picture yourself at the entrance to Hannibal, Missouri. That's right, beneath the statue of Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn. Take a picture - it's worth it. Now continue walking down the hill to the Mississippi River. Have a seat, yes, on the ground, and look out at the tree filled island east of where you're at. Okay, if you're going to whine about the mud, move south down the shoreline to the marina where they load and unload the riverboat. Pull up a chair. It is late May, the humidity is climbing but tolerable. It's a warm 86 degrees, the sky is clear and there is a gentle breeze. (the tornado isn't due for at least another two days, and it looks like it will be south of us - feel better? Good, lets continue) Now, remember...you're sights are on the tree cover island. Huck is mumbling on about Indian Joe and all you can think about is getting a solid five skips on a rock across the calm river. No worries about the decline in the market, the