I belong to three writer’s groups.  After experiencing various types of meetings with these fun, accomplished and eclectic people, I’ve come to the conclusion that I need look no further for unique and eccentric characters.

Character needed: Shaman; Eccentric Yet Wise Neighbor; Genius University Professor

Inspirational real person: Older man with long, slightly curly white hair worn in a ponytail, silver-rimmed eyeglasses, beige tunic topped with a necklace of shiny hematite beads and a medallion, and paired with a long brown velour skirt and sandals.  I think.  Not sure about the sandals. I was a bit distracted.

Character needed: Strange Mystery Writer; Strange Really Smart Computer Geek; Weird But Nice Enough Store Clerk

Inspirational real person: Large 20-something male with wild snow white hair, pale skin, checkered button-up shirt, awkward social skills and a speech pattern peppered with short bursts of short sentences inserted into conversations at odd times, and boat shoes.  I think.  Not sure about the shoes. I was kind of distracted.

Character needed: 50-something Female Massage Therapist; 50-something Female Former Surfboard Champion; Tell-it-like-it-is Marriage Counselor

Inspirational real person: Thin ultra tan 50-something female with killer legs, wears mini-skirts as often as possible, short spikey blonde hair, forthright and outgoing personality, accomplished and driven, discusses sex with no qualms, and writes books with erotic themes.  Fun to talk to.  I think.  I was a bit distracted by males wearing long skirts and uttering short bursts of short sentences.

I’m just getting started.  There’s the proper 60-something British lady who never removes her huge sunglasses, the enigmatic grandmother who will say nothing more about what she writes than the word “suspense”, and the tiny beautiful nurse/artist/model/hypnotherapist/writer that also happens to be a friend of mine.

If ever I decide to write fiction, I just need to go to one of my writer’s meetings for character inspiration – no writing discussion needed.

More writing-related musings.  Oh yes, there are more...

A fiction writer I have never been...

Oh you're a freelance writer?  How's unemployment going?

Listen muse...you're really slackin'!

Cost of commute vs. cost of toilet paper consumption

Photo in public domain ~ wikimediacommons.org

Copyright 2010 Melody Jones - see footer for more information or if you would like to request to use any copyrighted material on www.melodyjonesonline.com

But now I’m thinking there may be a fiction muse in me yet.  I just came up with a few opening lines.  

Yeah.  They need some work.

* If she'd known her day would end with jumping off a building, she'd have left the clowns at home.

*  One more time.  If her sister’s jack-ass husband said “you know what I mean” one more time, Mallory would throw a pie at his face.  Any pie would do, but a pie with tall meringue peaks perfectly baked might have the most impact.  You know what I mean?

* The ocean, grand and majestic, killed mercilessly.  Perhaps only living things were capable of mercy, and therefore mercilessness.

* The act of dying was, for me, mundane and anticlimactic.  I simply did not wake up one day.  Well, that’s not quite accurate.  I did awaken because here I am.

* I cannot abide bruised apples.  She came into our kitchen with them and seemed not to notice.  It was wrong of her not to notice.  She knows how important pristine and unbruised apples are to me.  But she will not make that mistake again.  I cannot abide mistakes.

Yes, my opening lines took a decided turn toward the mysterious and macabre.  Oh my.

Scary clown photo: stockxchng

Copyright 2010 Melody Jones - for more information, please see footer.

We all have DAYS. You know the kind I mean. And moments in days, and sometimes entire weeks.

There is one way to make your bad-day, bad-moment feelings known without causing harm to yourself, family members, coworkers, or that kid who plays trumpet loudly and badly every night for an hour.

Grrrr.

See what I mean?  A G followed by some R’s is a simple and elegant statement, pregnant with meaning yet easily understood.

It’s the perfect response when irritation has you in its grip, and naming names is counterproductive to, say, your income.  Think you might scream the next time your coworker uses the last drinkable coffee and doesn’t make more?

Don’t scream.  Simply fire up your Facebook page and post a status that goes like this – Grrrr.  Feel better?

Your Facebook friends will proceed to “like” your status.  They don’t have to know the details.  They understand you are having a DAY.

Tired of the neighbor’s faulty car alarm going off with the slightest breeze or when a loud and rumbling moped drives by?  Still in disbelief that “you-need-Viagra-right-now” and “send me money, I’m a poor Nigerian” pleas continue to make it past your spam filter?

A Facebook posting of one G and four R’s should suffice.

Has your brother not returned the last three messages you left asking for help moving your new 9 foot couch up two flights of stairs?

One G and five R’s.

Did you get a ticket on your way to 7-11 to get a Coke Slurpee?

That requires one G and six R’s, possibly seven.  After all, that was a $150 dollar slurpee.  I hope you mixed some cherry into your coke flavor.

Car getting repossessed?  Okay, so it doesn’t work in every situation.  But it works wonders for everyday stressors, your own or others’ stupidity, and the general ridiculousness of the human condition.

Try it and see.

Grrrr.  It’s the perfect stress-reducing Facebook status.

And the musings continue...

You might be a crafter if...

How did Rice Krispies get under my kneecaps?

Slurpee photo by Nehrams2020 via Wikimedia Commons

Copyright 2010 Melody Jones - see footer for more information or if you would like to use this or any material on www.melodyjonesonline.com

You’ve ever frantically yelled “Don’t throw that away! I can make something out of it.”

You spend an undisclosed amount of money every month on all things crafty.  To disclose it might give your spouse a heart attack.

You know precisely where the clearance wall is in Hobby Lobby and how long it takes you to walk back there.

Every piece of cardboard, old jewelry, and old clothing sets your mind ablaze with possibilities.

You’ve gone crazy with the glue gun and glued stuff to picture frames, cupboard doors, desks, planters, mirrors, your dog’s collar and computer monitors.

You cut buttons off all clothing bound for the trash can.

Large bags and boxes of miscellaneous items frequently appear on your doorstep. Everyone knows where the crazy craft lady lives.

You think nothing of going in to work with paint under your fingernails and glue on your elbow.

Every time you decide to clean and organize, you discover items you didn’t know you owned.

You don’t mind when you spill paint. It’s like floor art.

All folding tables in the house become permanent craft room additions.

Your spouse learns not to ask when how long you’ll be gone when it’s craft fair season.

Anything is fair game to become a piece of jewelry: bottle tops, tire rims, twist ties.

Others don’t understand why you need 15 different types of glue.

Your husband buys you a 100 pack of gel pens complete with stand, without batting an eye.  You’ve trained him well.

There are more musings. Oh yes.

Do what your dog does and you'll feel better

Home improvement vs. a sharp stick in the eye

(Glue gun photo by Eric Marttinen via wikimediacommons.org)

Copyright 2010 Melody Jones - see footer for more information or if you would like to request to use this or any material on www.melodyjonesonline.com