Category: Writing

Home > Writing

A Trip of One’s Own

June 30, 2026 by in category Quill and Moss by Dianna Sinovic, Writing tagged as , , , ,

The cereal poured from the spout so quickly it overflowed Marie’s bowl and fell to the tile floor in the breakfast bar. She and Todd were on the second day of their summer vacation, and bar was a stretch. Other early risers crowded past her, their shoes crunching on the small O’s she’d spilled. She barely had room to turn around to find the milk. Meanwhile, Todd ignored her for his phone, doom scrolling through the morning news.

She plopped her bowl down on the high-top table, this time causing the milk to splash.

“Are you eating this morning?” Marie sipped her large coffee, glad for the caffeine, eager for the jump start it promised. 

Her husband waved a hand, not looking up  “Later. I hardly slept last night. The traffic noise, your snoring.” He finally glanced at her, with a scowl. “And you have to drag me out of bed at this ridiculous hour.”

The cereal had already gone limp in Marie’s bowl; she suspected it was an off-brand. 

“We agreed that we would visit the Frederic Church house today.” She was not going to let Todd ruin the trip, ruin this precious time away from their cramped twin in Frenchtown and the Ginmans next door, whose three dogs never stopped barking. The rustic hotel along U.S. Route 9 had looked inviting in the photos posted online. Reality proved different. Small was an understatement.

“I’ll just wait in the car when we get there,” Todd growled. “You like that cultural stuff. You know I don’t.”

Fifteen years with this grouch. Had he always been this way? Her mother’s words, whispered in her ear as she adjusted the flounce on Marie’s wedding dress: Enjoy this while you can.

Once upon a time, she did. But now . . . 

A hotel staffer appeared at Todd’s elbow and speaking in low tones requested that he report to the front desk. There was an issue.

“What’s wrong?” Marie asked. Todd’s clothes were strewn around their room, but that was nothing new. She would tidy up, as she always did, before they departed. Checkout wasn’t until Sunday.

The staffer ignored her. Todd grimaced, muttering under his breath, but followed the hotel rep away from the breakfast nook. Every table (there were only five) was filled, and the line for the coffee urns wound its way out to the lobby.

After twenty minutes and no return of Todd, Marie tossed her trash in the receptacle and went in search of him. She wanted to spend the day at the Church house and studio. She loved the artist’s glorious landscapes, even if all she could afford was a print of his Marine Sunset she had framed at Michaels with a discount coupon. 

Todd was not at the front desk, which was unmanned. Aside from those in the coffee line, the lobby was empty. 

“Hello?” She waited a moment, hit the brass bell on the counter, but no one appeared to help her. She fumbled for her cell phone and tapped on Todd’s number. The call went straight to voicemail. Had he returned to their room and fallen asleep?

Marie strode back to the room, steeling herself against his ongoing complaints. Like the lobby, though, the room was empty of Todd. Empty of his clothes too. 

“Where the hell is he?” She was ready to head out without him. He could just stew for the day, hang out at the hotel, walk to the strip of small retail businesses across the road. She would savor an outing without his dark mood coloring every moment.

Back in the lobby, she stopped again at the desk. The staffer was the same one who had fetched Todd earlier.

“My husband, Todd Slifer,” Marie said. “He never returned to breakfast.”

“Breakfast?” The staffer’s eyebrows rose. “Perhaps he’s gone to your room?”

Marie sighed, the morning slipping away. “You summoned him to the desk. He’s not in the room or in the lobby. What was the issue?”

The staffer turned to his screen. “There must be some misunderstanding, Ms. …”

“Slifer.” Marie allowed her foot to tap out her impatience on the lobby tiles. This was vintage Todd, playing passive-aggressive when he didn’t want to do something she wanted. “Room 265.”

He tapped a few keys. When he looked up, she took a step back. 

“Ma’am,” he said, with a slight shake of his head. “The room is booked for a single occupant, you. The room rate is good for two people, if your husband has come along. Shall I add his name?”

The lobby walls seemed to shift, and she grabbed the edge of the counter to keep from falling. “Are you saying that you did not drop by our breakfast table earlier and ask my husband to accompany you?”

“No,” he said. “I haven’t left the desk since I came on at seven.”

“Thanks.” Had he winked at her? Marie straightened up and pulled her purse higher on her shoulder. “You’re right. A misunderstanding.” 

She wouldn’t look too hard for Todd, now or later. The tour of the Frederic Church house awaited her.

More of Dianna’s Stories

2 0 Read more

2+ 2 = ? Do you really need to know math if you want to be a writer? and I salute ‘Call the Midwife’ by Jina Bacarr

June 11, 2026 by in category Jina’s Book Chat, Writing tagged as , , , ,

I remember tossing my slide rule into my flower-papered trunk when I graduated… it was a good friend back in the day. Got me through mathematics in college and somehow it survived along with my paisley bell bottoms and Laguna Beach Indian bracelets. It wasn’t a magic wand, but it felt like one. You still had to understand math to make it work.

Fast forward to a newsstory I saw recently about how students entering university can’t do middle grade school math.

Mention a slide rule and they double blink.

Like you’re stuck in another century. Oops… I was.

But the message is clear. We need to get our students to fall in love with math again. It starts with reading. Taking the time to become so absorbed in a book or math project you can’t put it down. I talk books whenever I can, my faves from childhood, Gothic romances I adored, thrillers and mysteries that made me think.

I wasn’t a math major, but I enjoyed the dance of watching numbers build the foundation for something amazing, it’s a story of a different color from writing a novel. But learning math taught me discipline, perserverence, trying different calculations, etc. The same traits you need to write.

I learned basic coding when I worked for a video game company. Again, basic math needed back then.

Logic and reasoning. Making your brain THINK.

So thank you to Sister Jovita at St Peter’s who created magic on her blackboard when I was in the sixth grade and instilled in me a love for math. Here she is from an old family film…

@jinabacarrauthor

2+ 2 = ? Do you really need to know math if you want to be a writer? and I salute ‘Call the Midwife’ check out my post behind the video at asliceoforange.net #booktok #authorlife #historical #womensfiction #authorsoftiktokb #ilovetoread #authorsoftiktok @boldwood.books

♬ original sound – Jina Bacarr Historical Author♥ – Jina Bacarr Historical Author♥

(The brief shot of a pretty girl at the end is my BFF Claire at St Peter’s.)

I’m grateful to my educators as I was growing up, mostly the good sisters from different orders (I attended too many schools to list here). Which is why I became such a big fan of the nuns at Nonnatus House. As I watched the finale on ‘Call the Midwife‘, I cried. The faith, confidence, never-giving-up attitude of the nuns has been an inspiration to me (I’ve never missed an episode since it started). It’s been a loving, brilliant trip ‘back to my Catholic school days’. I so loved the sisters at all the schools and convent I attended. They laid the groundwork for my writing career. I feel so fortunate to have studied under their tutelage.

I salute you… everyone involved with ‘Call the Midwife‘, and I can’t wait for the film and prequel in the works.

I may even dig out my slide rule… but I’ll skip the bell bottoms.

================

Waiting for notes on Book 2 of Lia’s story — my Paris WW2 circus saga!!

Here is Book 1:

My latest Paris WW2 novel:
Check out: ‘The Stolen Children of War’ — Book 1 in Lia’s Story. I’m now writing Book 2 ‘Flight of the Stolen Children’.

A story told in Book 1 of this 2 book series about children hidden in plain sight in Occupied Paris 1943. In the circus.

2 0 Read more

Do you wear white after labor day? And other seasonal thoughts.

June 10, 2026 by in category Writing

I love seasons, and the holidays and admit, a good deal of my life is planned around these moments.

You won’t find me wearing white before the first day of spring…or after Labor Day. Not because I believe it should be a rule, or other people shouldn’t, but because I enjoy the ritual of a fresh wardrobe for the next season. And, while the Christmas tree doesn’t go up until after Thanksgiving, and I take it down right after New Year’s Day, partially because it’s hard to clean around, but partially, because I like to keep it special…I do keep Christmas all year round by planning Christmas gift lists in January, and shopping and making gifts all year long. In fact, if I’m depressed, or need a good distraction…Christmas shopping is my favorite thing to do.

I decorate…not over the top, but little touches here and there, for Valentine’s, St. Patrick’s Day, Easter, 4th of July, Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas. And I make little seasonal changes, floral pillow covers in the spring, summery placemats, autumn wreaths on the front door, etc. There are cookies that I only bake for Christmas…or very special people who ask me on special occasions.

I like to read a good Valentine’s romance in February, a summer beach read in August, and something with autumn leaves and hayrides in October. The one time I might deviate, is July…I’m all for some good Christmas in July to cool a hot summer day.

So, it’s no surprise that holidays, and seasonal traditions appear in my books. In fact, right now, all of my published romcoms are holiday themed. (Although the one I’m currently working on is not holiday themed, a holiday or two may appear in the story, lol.)

I work hard to give my stories a special feel. The chill in the air if it’s Christmas, the smell of Christmas tamales, a tradition in my family, and powdered sugar in the air from weeks of baking cookies. Fireworks, hot dogs, and the smell of the ocean for the 4th of July. These things are all important to me, inspire romance, friendship, peace and excitement all at the same time.

So, here we are in June, I’m working on a summer romcom, and preparing for 4th of July with our 5-year-old grandson. I’m planning our barbecue menu, some special 250years of Independence craft projects for Milo and me, and collecting red, white and blue decorations. While I’m very aware of how imperfect our country is, there are so many things that make me proud to live here. And most of them have to do with people. People I admire and who care about others and make the USA and the world a kinder place. People who are creative and make our world a more beautiful place. People who make a difference.

How do you feel about holidays and the change of seasons? Do you wear white after Labor Day? Do you put up your Christmas tree in November or leave it up all year long? Or not put one up at all??? Which holidays do you decorate for? Are there foods you only make for certain occasions? Are holidays just another day to you? I hope you’ll tell me, I’d love to know! And if you’re looking for a fun holiday read, I hope you’ll check out my books here: Tari Lynn Jewett Books.

2 2 Read more

Unexpected Twist of Love

June 5, 2026 by in category Writing

A couple of years ago, it’s hard to believe I’m saying that. Even more hard to comprehend that the book I’m about to talk about will be ten years old this year. 

Many of you may remember I did something a few people questioned. I published a title a month for a year. Looking back on it, I have mixed emotions. Was it insane? Possibly. Did I fully understand what I was doing? No. Would I ever do it again? Depends. 

The challenge set the stage for a healthy backlist, which I don’t regret. However, because I wasn’t fully aware of what I was doing, it left me with a few loose ends…cliffhangers. 

I think I only have two books left on the cliff. I also have the end of a series I’ve been putting off. Technically, the series that needs an ending could stand as it is. However, I won’t do that, because there are some things that really need to be finished. I know one of the reasons I’m hesitant to end that series, is because it’s the first one I wrote. I’m very attached to those characters, but I know I need to give them a proper finish.

Back to the book this post is about, UNEXPECTED LOVE. Read the previous post at the bottom.That book in its inception, was supposed to be about a woman and her multiple husbands. Instead, it became the story of a woman and her deceitful husband. I thought it was going to be a standalone with a hard cliffhanger. In my defense, it ended with a cliffhanger because someone told me that’s what readers liked. They forgot to tell me, readers also wanted an HEA at some point. I have been putting off the continuation of this story for a while. 

Last year or possibly, the end of 2024, I started writing the continuation of the story. OMG! I have to admit I can tell the difference in my writing. The follow-up to this book is insane. I love the direction and the plot. Since I wrote the first book, I’ve been involved in a few anthologies requiring novellas or short stories. In one of the anthologies, I wrote a short story. Recently, I needed a novella and was clueless on what to write. I took the short story and expanded it into a novella. Once I got in to the story, I discovered I was able to tie it into the UNEXPECTED LOVE follow-up. So, what was originally a multi-book series, converted to a standalone, is now a three full-length novels and three novella series. 

I never saw this happening. I was also able to implement world building. I talked about world building in a previous post. The characters in this series tie into characters from some of my other series: The Alex Chronicles; Generational Curse; A Southern Gentleman and Miss Match. 

When I stated earlier that I had no idea what I was doing ten years ago, this is what I meant. Had I known about world building and series writing, I would have done a lot better with that challenge. 

To sum up. Always listen to your characters. 

Previous post on UNEXPECTED LOVE

I apologize if I’ve already told the story about my upcoming release, “UNEXPECTED LOVE.” My relationship with this story goes back several years. When I first became an Indie Writer, I had quite a few stories dancing around in my mind. I had this idea for a series about a woman and the many men in her life. More like all the men she’d married.

When I set out to write the series, the task seemed a little daunting. I don’t know about anyone else, but I easily get attached to my characters. But if I don’t feel a connection, it’s difficult for me to tell their story.

When I got the idea for this story, I imagined it as a five book series. I had all the husbands mapped out. However, when I started writing, it felt very forced. I was so overwhelmed trying to tell this woman’s story. I abandoned the series and thought I would tell it as a standalone. Summarizing each of the husbands and focusing on the one she really loved.

I picked up the pages I’d started, made a few changes, and set out to write. I liked where this story was going, but as I got more involved with the characters, the story changed. It was no longer a story about a bitter divorcee, but a liberated divorcee who finds love in an unexpected source, her ex-husband’s ex-best friend, who just happens to be her divorce attorney. That’s either a mouthful or a blurb.

The more involved I got with Fiona’s story, the more I liked her. But I also felt sorry for her. She’s a sweetheart, searching for her voice. In a nutshell, she married her college crush, who later deceived her. Once she decided to divorce him, she found her voice. I love her transition, although it’s not without its ups and downs. One of which is the change in her relationship with her attorney and her self-esteem.

Last year, when I set out to write twelve titles in a year, I had this title on the schedule as a short story. However, I didn’t think there was enough story for a book. So I resolved myself to make it a short story. I cleaned up the first chapter and started writing. But when I started writing, the story took a turn. It was no longer about Fiona and her husband, but Fiona and her attorney.

I continued writing, thinking I could tell the story in novella length. As I got closer to what would be maximum novella length, the characters kept talking. No matter how hard I fought to end the story, they kept talking, so I kept writing. I really enjoyed the direction the story was going. Then I wrote myself into a hole. Crap! I didn’t see a way out, so I introduced another character, thinking she would help me. Instead, she led me to a wall, and the only way around the wall was another character. Hold on, it gets better. When I introduced this character, he brought his own storyline in addition to tearing down the wall.

So here I was with a full-length novel. But here’s the kicker. When I introduced Fiona’s brother (aka “the wall”) into the mix, the story took another turn and led me to a place I never would have imagined being, “Cliffhanger Boulevard.”

Yep, my five book series originally titled, “My Five Husbands” was changed to a standalone novel. Then it got a title switch to “UNEXPECTED LOVE.” Then it became a short story, that grew into a novella that reverted to a full-length standalone, which is now book one in a new series. Talk about unexpected.

So what’s the lesson learned? Never throw out an idea. Instead, put it aside and, when the time is right, revisit it. You might be surprised what story you can tell.

0 0 Read more

Photo Finish

May 30, 2026 by in category Quill and Moss by Dianna Sinovic, Writing tagged as , ,

Three long weeks. Marla checked her calendar for the fifth time that morning and stared at the next cubicle, vacant, as it had been for twenty-one days. Where was Chet? Her work queue glared at her, each extra file on her screen a reminder that her coworker was shirking his duties.

Photo by Austin on Unsplash

He wasn’t on vacation. (He’d have bragged.) He’d said nothing about taking a leave. (He had bills to pay.) Was he ill? At death’s door? At near age forty (her best guess), Chet wasn’t old enough to have anything terminal. Although Marla’s knees reminded her daily that she was a solid fifty-two.

In the breakroom, word was Chet had won the lottery and quit the company, leaving the photos of his dog and his latest girlfriend pinned to the divider panel, the small plastic figure of Yoda next to his keyboard, and his spare jacket draped over this chair. But Marla didn’t believe it. 

Her supervisor was mum about Chet, deflecting questions with a cryptic “I can’t say.”

And so Marla doubled down on her work queue, cursing Chet with each completed file.

“Freeloader.”

“Lazy ass.”

“Coward.”

Guilt crept over her. He might be odd, but her coworker wasn’t any of those other things, really. She was just angry at having to shoulder the full load of their work. With no explanation from him.

Her cell phone pinged.

I need that photo of Brandy.

Who was this? 

Then it registered. He had her number.

Chet? she texted back. Where are you? What’s going on?

Bring Brandy’s photo and meet me outside the Starbucks on Main.

It was near break time; she could slip out for a quick errand. 

OK, she responded. 10 minutes?

A thumbs-up appeared on her text. She would grill the man when they met. Find out why he went AWOL. Was he now a fugitive? 

Not knowing whether Brandy was the dog or the girlfriend, Marla took both photos, tucked them into her purse and left the office at once. It was three blocks to Starbucks, and she strode purposefully, eager to hear Chet’s story. 

He wore a ballcap with the brim pulled down, as though in disguise. That was the first detail she noticed. The second was the shimmer that surrounded him, almost like a hologram. What the …?

As she approached, he held up his hands. “Don’t come too near.” His face held both worry and excitement.

“I’ll stand right here, but you’ve got to tell me what’s happening.” She pulled out the photos from her purse and held them out. “I didn’t know which one you wanted.”

Chet’s form shimmered more intensely as he took them from her. “Thanks,” he said. “I can’t say a lot, because I don’t have much time, but I’m leaving.”

“Leaving Doylestown? Bucks County?” Marla would miss him, even if he was weird.

Chet’s laugh was more of a cough. “Leaving Earth. I insisted that they bring Brandy along, too.” He waved the photos. “They needed an image to locate her.”

Leaving … Earth? “Are you okay, Chet? Can I call someone for you?”

“No need,” he said. “I’ve got to go now.”

“And your dog?” Marla hoped he’d arranged for someone to adopt it. If he was having a mental health crisis, he wouldn’t be able to care for the critter until he was well. 

He waved the photos at her again, this time singling out the canine. “Brandy’s coming. They promised me.”

The shimmering became blinding, and Chet was gone, leaving Marla alone on the sidewalk, the roar of traffic on the busy street muffling her gasp. She glanced around her, but no one else seemed to have noticed the flash of light that consumed her coworker. 

Well, she was at a Starbucks. Might as well grab a latte before heading back to the office—and that endless queue of files.

More of Dianna’s Stories

0 1 Read more

Copyright ©2017 A Slice of Orange. All Rights Reserved. ~PROUDLY POWERED BY WORDPRESS ~ CREATED BY ISHYOBOY.COM

>