Will Jenny come to Brenda’s aid?

I’ve just finished writing Jenny for the day and have this bit of dialogue from her Godmother Brenda that I wanted to share, though I am not particularly sure why. I think it might be because I’ve been struggling to get to this point in the book for a couple of days, and now that I’ve worked my way past the writer’s block, I feel as though I’ve reached a crucial point in the beginning stages of the story. So here you go.

“What you have to understand is that at the time that Joseph rose to power, some people didn’t have a choice regarding whether or not they wanted to join Joseph’s army. Those who had been forced or brainwashed we helped to the best of our abilities and the loyal followers we destroyed. However some of those who pleaded their innocence, we have just recently come to learn were lying. But the point that I’ve been trying to reach is that, we think that Joseph may be very much alive, and we think that he might be on the move. The reason that I came here this morning is because if he is indeed on the move then we’re going to need your help Jenny.”

Jenny’s wandering mind

Jenny walked home from work in a daze; it being her last day at the café before she left on what she hoped to be an exciting adventure, did have a fraction to do with her distracted mind. But there was something else, yes something elsewhere, though she could not quite put her finger on it, all she knew for certain was that it bothered her. For whatever the reason her thoughts bounced back and forth between her last day at the café, to the adventure which lie ahead and, to this morning. The answer clicked on as if there were a light bulb above her head. Of course the nightmare that I’d had this morning, that’s what’s been distracting me. Now with utmost clarity she heard Brenda’s voice in her head, “They’re dead, they’re dead.” It was enough to send chills down her spine. Why has it popped up again? I haven’t had one for years. She recalled the last one being almost over two and a half years ago, a little over a year after they had passed away, in that horrible accident. So why are they popping up again? Then the answer came in a flash to her brain. Stress and the fact that I’m leaving the country, of course the stress probably triggered it; just stress, nothing to worry yourself about. With that she forced herself out of her daze, for now she needed to finish packing and to concern herself with catching a 10AM flight to London.

A Stephen King quote

“The good ideas will always stick with you, so you shouldn’t feel the need to write them down in a notebook.” I’m pretty sure that I just paraphrased a bit there but that’s the general idea behind Mr King’s quote, the good ideas stick around and the bad ones fade away.

It really puts writing into perspective doesn’t it, almost as if he’s given us the gift of confidence. Be confident in your writing, by doing yourself a favor and don’t reach for the notepad when an idea pops up, instead wait and see if it might just pop up again.

If it pops up 12 times within a month then sit your ass down at your computer and start typing. Think of it as a dog,  you know that it isn’t going stop wining till you let it out to do it’s business.


For almost the past two years writing has seemed foreign to me, even though I haven’t stopped. It’s not as if the craft and the art of writing had become this mysterious exercise, (of which I had no idea what to do with) or that the words themselves had transformed into an unknown language which I could not decipher. No it felt more-alike I had lost my passion, that spark, that enthusiasm, that lust to create and mold a story together. I’m sure that this doesn’t come as much of a shock to you; because you’ve probably noticed it in my writing itself; for me it felt like a blurrish blab of crap. Now don’t get me wrong there were probably some interesting ideas floating around it those pieces of writing, but I felt no connection to the pieces. Perhaps that’s why writing had become so foreign to me.

I know this is somewhat of a sin for a writer to say and follow through with this action, but I think that I would like to keep all of my writing energy on writing Jenny Mac. I know that I am only just beginning to let these ideas flow again, but there is this certain electrifying energy that I feel when I’m writing down ideas for Jenny Mac, and that feeling has undeniably gone beyond my writing. I feel as if I am being pulled from this sort of dark depressive time period in my life and all of these positive things have been happening ever since. I can say with utmost certainty that I’m in a better place than I was two years ago, hell I’m in a better place than I was five years ago when I moved out to Mass. I feel that now is the time to be a writer, now is the time to let the ideas flow freely, now is the time to write in almost an obsessive manner. I feel it in every fiber of my being that this is my time.

Not to sound all about myself, but I’ve never felt this kind of unstoppable energy before and I don’t know how else to describe other than incredible!


After a nonstop blur of home improvements and landlord duties, I had some time to let my ideas flow, and my fingers to do some typing. By the end I had come up with this idea; which I’m hoping made for an interesting sequence.

The crowd cheered, the sweat glistened on her face. She looked at the batter, and then stared down home plate. She rolled the ball between her fingers, inhaled, wound up, and let the ball fly, as it went past the batter.

“Strike three, you’re out!”

The crowd’s cheers bounced off her eardrums and Jenny cracked a smile. The game was in full swing, and she knew that would be a great one. She felt the softball latch back onto her mitt and she prepared herself once more. Her fingers felt the familiar feeling of cowhide, she inhaled to the smells of freshly cut grass flooding through her nostrils with its pleasant scent; a concentrated grim spread throughout her face and…

Sirens blared in her ears, her head, began to pound as if a migraine were about to pass into the realm of a cluster headache. Nausea overtook her stomach, and she prepared to upchuck. The vomit never came, it was instead swapped for another ailment, her heart began to pound so quickly and so rapidly she expected to feel pains in her left arm; but what came instead sent her to her knees. Air struggled to make its way down to her lungs, she coughed, coughed again, still no air. Suddenly she felt a hand thrust her backward. She then briefly she caught a glimpse of the transitioning sky, what followed was darkness.

Jenny’s ears were the first to come back; they could hear the sounds of medical machinery beeping every few seconds, the sounds of shuffling shoes and talking.

“Is she going to be all right?” She heard Brenda’s familiar voice ask.

“She’ll be fine, she had a panic attack, which must have been brought on by all of the excitement of the game,” a man’s voice replied.

“Well is that normal for a girl her age?” Brenda asked, sounding a bit pushy.

“Oh yes, teens can often feel more stress and anxiety than an adult would, and why wouldn’t they? Growing up is a difficult process with loads of different things to stress out about, and given that she’s the captain of a varsity softball team, and on a winning streak no less, it’s easy to see how the pressure became too much for her body to handle.”

“Okay, so how would you keep another episode for occurring?”

“Make sure to keep her stress levels at a minimum, and maybe also have her talk to you when you notice that she seems a bit overwhelmed.”

“All right,”

“We’ll release her in a couple of hours, we just want to make sure that she’s on the up and up before we send her home. When she does go home have her take it easy.”

“I’ll make sure of that.”

Her eyes began to feel functional, she opened them and the light burned at her retinas, she swiftly closed them tightly.

“Have you had any luck getting a hold of her parents?”

“No and I’m not sure where they could be.”


Jenny opened her eyes slowly and finally they could take seeing the lights overhead.

A woman’s voice came on over the speaker clearly. “Paging doctor Runnings to ER room 5, paging doctor Runnings to ER room 5.”

“I’ve got to go, I’ll be back to check on Jenny as soon as I am able.”

Jenny caught a glimpse of a man in a lab coat rushing out the door as she was turning her head toward Brenda, who was standing at her the foot of her hospital bed. “What happened to me?”

Brenda turned toward her, looked her dead in the face, expressionless, and said in a creepy voice… “They’re dead.”

“What,” Jenny could feel her heart beginning to pound again.

“Your parents, they’re dead,” Brenda said coldly, her face still without expression, and her voice lacking in sorrow.”

“No!” Jenny shouted, while Brenda’s words played on repeat inside of her head. “They’re dead, they dead.”

Jenny lay on her bedroom floor mumbling, “No, no, they’re alive, no, no,” “No!”

Jenny sat up tangled in her covers, with sweat soaking through her t-shirt. She breathed in and out heavily and then finally after a moment pulled herself back onto her bed.

“No, not the dreams again,” Jenny fell back onto her mattress, and began to ponder over the dream, in the darkness of the early morning hours.

Home Improvements (Refinishing kitchen cabinetry)

Well I’m finally settled into my new house and that means that the home improvements can officially begin. Although technically, they sort of got started as we were moving in, but now they actually stand a chance at being completed because now I have no major distractions.

The first project some of you might have already seen photos of on The Jenny Mac Series Facebook page.

I kicked off my first project in the heart of the home,  the kitchen. I found that the biggest issue I had in the kitchen was that my cabinets though old, but in good shape; were fashioning a very retro look.


I don’t know about you but these cabinets screamed a bit of the old west to me every time that I looked at them.

So as I said before these babies are old but still in good condition,  so if you’re on a budget as I am, one of the best ways to give your old cabinets a whole new life, is to sand them down, take off the old knobs… (If they’re older knobs this task can sometimes be easier said than done. ) And in my case paint the cabinets, then finally put on brand new knobs.

If all goes accordingly they should turn out something like this.


I’ve got to say for my first time refinishing kitchen cabinets they turned out alright.

The Jenny Mac Prologue

I saw this idea clearly in my head and just had to see what it might turn into. I’m not exactly sure what this piece is or where it might fit in the novel. The only thing I knew for certain is that I had to write it down, so for now let’s just call it The Jenny Mac Prologue.

It’s a peaceful night in the house of 86 Nutmeg Road. The fireplace roared as a log crackled in the flames of the fire; which warned the living room to a pleasantly cozy, relaxing temperature. As Brenda breathed in the delightful smells of June’s, freshly baked Oatmeal raisin cookies, she felt a sense of peace and security reach her heart and mind; both of which hadn’t felt very much at ease for some time now.

She grabbed for a cookie absent-mindedly and took a bite, as that sense of peace and security began to flood through her body. The feeling was so infectious that slowly she could feel those constant pains in her knee that severed as a daily reminder of her, living, breathing existence, faded. In that moment a smile stretched across her face, from ear to ear.

“You’re smiling,” said James as he sat down in his armchair, fashioning a facetious expression on his face.

“Yes, I suppose I am.”

“Bout time, I was beginning to wonder whether or not you would be able to pull yourself from the fog.”

The fog had felt worse than any type of depression; it clung to her like a bad habit, and caused anxiety attacks that felt more like panic attacks. Terrible thoughts and worries clouded her mind worse than a cloudy day, at one point it had crossed her mind that the fog would never lift.

“I’m not sure what happened, all of the sudden this, calm just spread throughout my body. The pain in my knee has even disappeared.”

“Well I think now you’re finally starting to heal and trust that he’s truly gone.”

“Perhaps, but all I know James, is that I don’t want to feel this peaceful calm, fade away. I never again want to be trapped in that dark place.”

He nodded, with his face now looking more serious. “We won’t just let you venture back there. You need to get back to your old self.”

The truth in his words rang clearly in her ears, and she could feel another development forming, which released her personality from its prison cell; oh yes she was indeed in transition back to her old self.

A happy-go-lucky Jenny now entered the room, accompanied by her mother. “All right sweetie pie, say your good nights to daddy and Auntie Brenda.”

Jenny took off like a rocket and jumped onto Brenda’s lap, accidentally smacking her knee upon impact, but Brenda didn’t even wince, instead she wrapped Jenny up tightly in her arms and gave her a huge bear hug. Jenny giggled in her ear.

“Good night Auntie Brenda.”

“Good night my fair Princess Jenny, may you sleep soundly, and dream happily.”

Jenny withdrew from her hug and looked deeply into Brenda’s eyes. “Is something a matter Princess?”

“You changed, you’re happy now, I can feel it.” Jenny announced with a smile.

“I can feel it too,” said Brenda, as she gave her another hug.

“Good night Auntie Brenda I love you.”

“I love you too sweetie.”

Jenny climbed down from Brenda and ran over to her father, giving him a very big kiss on his cheek. Brenda smiled widely as she watched Jenny and her father interact. Though she wasn’t actually blood related to the family she and June were as close as sisters, and have a better sibling bond than biological siblings could hope for. She loved the family and absolutely adored Jenny.

June and Jenny exited the living room and it was quiet once more, both Brenda and James basked in it, as they listened to the shrinking log crackles, while it gave off more heat. A few minutes later June reentered the room, and sat next to her husband in the other armchair.

“You are feeling better,” June announced, as if she could feel the slight nervousness in Brenda’s vibes. I also felt when I walked into the room; I think your fog has finally lifted.”

“Yes I feel the same.”

“June smiled in her familiar warming glow; words had almost found her lips when screams from her daughter stopped them dead.

Brenda sprung to her feet and sprinted effortlessly toward Jenny’s bedroom; she’d reached her room in time to see Jenny spring to an upright position in her bed and begin to speak.

“He is, not, dead. Nor is he gone; he shall return, and when he returns two lives will be lost.” Jenny’s body flopped back down onto her bed, and she lay there sleeping peacefully, unaware that anything had occurred.

Suddenly the hair on the back of Brenda’s neck stood up, and her stomach turned painfully, making her feel nauseous. She felt June’s hand touch her shoulder and James’s latch onto the other. “Come on, he said. Let’s sit you down.”

Brenda sat back down on the couch feeling her uneasiness creep up her spine.

“Brenda relax I can sense your fear, and just so you know I haven’t felt anything, Joseph is gone, I’m sure of it,” June said, in a most honest and humble manner.

“How can we be certain, if Jenny is picking up on this then-”

“She’s only five years old, she is just barely coming into her senses, and she doesn’t know what she’s saying, or feeling. I’ve felt no terrible vibes; nothing is disturbing the tranquility of the world.”

“Of course she didn’t say they would affect us now, she said that they’d affect us later.”

June now sat closer to Brenda. “If there were distant evils brewing my heart would feel it. Trust me when I tell you everything is fine.”

Brenda could hear the honest truth in June’s voice, and she released her unease. She hugged them both and they went on with their night, ignoring an honest child’s warning.