The Wryters' Block

Shaping, Designing, Sculpting Words

Cookies, Anyone?

When writers write, pieces of truth or tidbits of facts from their lives spill onto the canvas, the written page.

English: a Oreo cookie broken in half with a s...

When my oldest son, the perfect baby, was nine months old, he learned to drink milk from a cup. But every night along with his cup filled with milk, he expected a cookie. Any kind of cookie would do – Vanilla wafer, Oreo, Sugar cookie, Coconut Macaroon…From those facts, I penned a scene (published in Perfect Love, my first novel) in which one of the main characters, Will, tells his daughter Breanna a bedtime story.
Once upon a time,” Will began, “there lived the most beautiful girl in the whole wide world. She had the most beautiful mom of all the other moms. Her dad wasn’t really that handsome, but he had this great, great love for his daughter. Every night before his daughter crept into bed, she had to have cookies and milk to help her fall asleep. It didn’t matter if it was a Oreo, Vanilla wafers, or any other kind, as long as it was a cookie.”
He continued, “On one particular night at her bedtime, her poor old father didn’t have a single cookie in the cupboard to give to his darling daughter. In fact, there was not a single cookie or cookie crumb anywhere in their entire house.The beautiful girl cried and cried and could not be comforted. The poor father offered her candy bars, grapes, and tangerines but the girl kept crying and crying.”
“So, what did her poor, old father do?” Brenna asked with a smile.
“Guess what he did?”
“What?” she asked, grinning, already knowing the answer, for she’d heard this story about a million times already.
“The poor, old man bundled his daughter up in her scarf, mittens, cap and coat.”
“Don’t forget her bunny bedroom shoes, Dad. She had to have those on too.”
“You’re right. She had to have those on too,” he spoke gently, “or else she’d start that terrible crying all over again.”
“Then what happened?”
“The man picked up his beautiful daughter that he loved so very much and lifted her up in his arms as tenderly and gently as he could.”
“And, he carried her in his arms all the way to the store. He bought boxes and boxes of cookies – enough to last an entire year.”
“But, Daddy, how could he carry her and all those boxes of cookies home?”
“They didn’t go home. They decided they’d live in the cookie store forever and ever. The end.”
Breanna laughed and rubbed her sleepy eyes. No one could tell bedtime stories as wonderfully as her dad could. She reached up and hugged his neck.
“Daddy, you left out the best part.”
“Really?” Will pretended to be shocked.
“Really. You never told me the beautiful girl’s name.”
“Her name was Breanna,” Will spoke with much love and tenderness in his voice. He smiled and kissed the top of Breanna’s forehead. “Now go to sleep, Sleepyhead.”

Cookies, anyone? Share or tell about something you have written based on fact.


September 17, 2012 - Posted by | Writing | , , , , ,

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