write what you know, sort of

Damn it, I’ve been trying like crazy to work this picture into a decent blog post, but nothing I write seems worthy of it.

I will say that I DID NOT! SHOOT Pig, but you probably already know that. I never even saw Pig. I stopped the car to take a picture ofย  a horse. This sign was all lagniappe.

In other news, I still have a black eye two and a half weeks after sliding on the slick of golfball-sized nuts that have been dropping with impunity from the enormous malevolent hickory tree that dominates our cul de sac. The tree that must have been planted by one of Ruth Rendell’s more troubled characters. Earlier in the summer, I LOVED that tree. It was a Beatrix Potter sort of tree back then, home to a series of adorable frogs living in a crevasse at its base. What a difference a shiner can make.

But here’s the thing: Moon Beach Magic has a knock-down, drag-out fight, and by the third draft I thought I’d nailed the down and dirty pretty well, even though I’ve never been in a fistfight. Once I slammed my face (and knees and shoulder) into the pavement, though, I knew how to describe the fight SO much better.

So I did in draft four.

Write what you know, indeed.

10 comments to write what you know, sort of

  • So sorry about the fall. I hope you’re okay, especially those new knees.
    Isn’t it funny how real life mishaps can change a the way we perceive things.

    Pig must be a pet? ๐Ÿ™‚

    • Yes, definitely a change in perception. My surgeon had told me that falling on my knees shouldn’t be any different now than it was in the past. Doesn’t make sense to me, but fortunately he was right at least in this case. I had skinned knees and more trouble walking up stairs for a while, but I’m so over it now.

      Yeah, the pig is a pet. Wild pigs also seem to be a problem in the country around here, and way too many people are trigger happy anyway, so he probably should have had a sign on the horse and on the mailbox as well.

  • Oh my, like Dana, my first thought was about your knees. I hope you “know” something better to write about soon. But at least you made the best of that fight with the tree.

  • EVERYTHING is fodder for fiction, isn’t it. I’m glad you’re okay! That’s a wicked black eye.

    I love your suggestion that one of Ruth Rendell’s characters planted the tree, but even more … I wonder who Pig is? The natural assumption is a pig, but maybe not.

  • OUCH! What a shiner! Glad you’re okay.

    We had a huge hickory in our front yard growing up. Although it was great for shade, it was lousy for those of us who wanted to run barefoot all-the-time, as you know us southern gals like to do. What is it about these sky reaching monsters that gives them such a life of duality!

    Humm… Do you think Earl, his bush tailed friend, and that unfriendly hickory are conspiring to get your attention?

    • Funny you should mention Earl – I was just thinking about him and some of the stuff I was writing a couple of years ago and thinking it was time to revisit it.

      Ain’t no way to walk barefoot here, between the hickory tree in the front and the live oaks and those pesky pointed acorns in the back. Gotta hit the beach for that. ๐Ÿ™‚

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