Recalculating and Moving On Toward the Goal

It wasn’t the first time Rain had kissed a boy, but it felt like a first kiss, warm and tender with just enough spark, the hint of electricity letting her know she should be careful. She pulled back. The wonder on his face, the naked adoration, goose-pimpled her flesh. If he had told her in that exact moment she was beautiful, she would’ve believed him.

**************************************************************************

I hoped to have this first draft finished by the end of January, but guess what? I was so near the end I could practically taste it. It was right there. Then, in a flash of sudden insight, I discovered a fatal plot flaw. My main character’s inner goal was not quite enough.

 

 

This is frustrating. Back tracking is the pits, but I console myself with the idea that it will be a better story in the end. I know how to fix it. The solution came to me as soon as I recognized the problem. It will take time, though.

Another funny thing about this book is that the closer I think the end is, the further away it gets, like one of those telescoping scenes in a movie where the end of the hall stretches far into the distance. I am committing to get this draft done by the end of February. When the dust finally settles, I suspect the story will need massive cuts but I’m trying not to think about that. I lost two weeks to migraines, but still managed to crank out the words on the other days, albeit slowly compared to previous months.

The amazing Diana Sharples has been advising me, and I appreciate her so much! I was a bit scared to approach her when she posted looking for a reader for one of her current works in progress. I read her book, Running Lean while researching eating disorders for one of my previous young adult novels and liked it. Diana has five, yes five, books coming out this year. She is a busy woman. And she is fabulous. Check out her site here.

My To Be Read pile is growing to prodigious proportions, but that’s fine with me. So many good books and zero calories! Slated for this month’s Book Breaks, posted Wednesdays on Instagram and the blog, are When We Were Worthy by Marybeth Mayhew Whalen, The Secret Life Of Sara Hollenbeck by Bethany Turner, and Love and Other Consolation Prizes by Jamie Ford. I’m undecided about my fourth selection. If you have a suggestion, please post in the comments.

How are you doing with your goals for the year?

Whining or Winning

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” said Rain. She wished they could go back to just sitting in the quiet, not saying anything.

Will stood, fists clenched at his sides before he visibly relaxed, and let his arms hang loosely. Rain expected him to come and sit beside her, or look at her, or say something. Instead, he turned on his heel and walked away into the late afternoon shadows, leaving her sitting there alone on a cool concrete bench in his dead mother’s garden.

***************

At 40,000 words, the rough draft of this novel is about half way through my plot outline. Hmmm. May need to trim a bit. I usually write short and then add. I’m not good at math, but even I know at this rate the story would be way too long.

Last month I took advantage of nanowrimo fever to try and keep up the momentum I established a few weeks earlier after reading Finish by Jon Acuff. One of his suggestions was to cut your goals in half, so at half done I feel pretty good about my progress. Except when I don’t feel good about it. Ha! Do you ever beat yourself up for not being as good, as fast, or as brilliant as someone else?

This morning I told my daughter I was a bit sad and depressed for no apparent reason. I wondered if it was because I wasn’t cranking out the high word counts I saw others producing.

Obviously, I was feeling a little sorry for myself and enjoying some sour grapes when I said, “Other people are getting to be all fabulous because they won nanowrimo and here I am still poking along.”

She said, “But you’re already fabulous, mama.”

We laughed. So much for whining about not winning. I guess maybe I don’t need to “win” at everything. As long as I stay fabulous.

Time for me to quit belly aching and get back to work on this novel.

Stay fabulous, y’all!

By the way, what do you think of the new mini book break reviews I’ve been posting? Do you like them?

Invisible: Asperger’s in Girls

I never make a grand announcement at the beginning of my current novel in progress, but everyone guesses right away that the teen boy has asperger’s. Yet no one ever asks about the main character, his twin sister.  

As it is currently written, I did not intend for them both to be autistic, but it seems plenty of markers pop up. It’s certainly enough for someone to notice, to question. Unless we don’t notice asperger’s in girls.

Here’s quick rundown of a few things about my female teen character that might point to autism or a related condition.

She is anxiety ridden, repeatedly picks at her skin to the point of bleeding, often speaks bluntly, has a phobia, hates surprises, finds deception almost impossible, has difficulty with emotions, problems with executive functioning, poor fashion sense, craves structure, has a primary initial emotional response of anger, follows the rules, is emotionally immature, liked to spin when she was younger, has a TWIN with autism, a father with geek syndrome, and a mom who is super organized and hides her own feelings. I describe her going into a dissociative state when she becomes overwhelmed. While in this state, she tears at her flesh until she bleeds. (Shutdown vs. meltdown) She is sloppy when painting her room, but is a talented artist who sells her work.

Hmmmm.

While I didn’t write my main character to be on the spectrum, I do wonder why no one asked. They asked about the father. It could be due to my writing, or maybe, just maybe, we don’t think of girls as having aspergers’. And would we know an aspergirl staring us right in the face? According to what I’ve found out, not likely.

https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/autism-it-s-different-in-girls/

https://iancommunity.org/ssc/girls-autism-hiding-plain-sight

https://spectrumnews.org/features/deep-dive/the-lost-girls/

When, exactly, does a quirky, troubled girl start looking like an aspie? Especially if you didn’t know her before she entered the teen years? And what does an aspie look like anyway? By the way, please don’t ever, ever tell someone their kid doesn’t look autistic.

Boys and girls are different. Why would an aspie girl behave in a male aspie way? Aspergers or autism is not strictly a boy’s condition. Girls are simply staying under the radar.

“If you’ve met one autistic person, you’ve met one autistic person.”

And why I am even talking about it? Because girls on the spectrum function under a tremendous amount of pressure. They end up misdiagnosed. Anxious and depressed. Judged. People don’t have to make life harder than it already is.

Honestly, snap judgments about why a person acts the way they do are rarely useful. Struggling people act out. Grieving children act out. I know in fiction we won’t tolerate a character we don’t like. Fine with me, as long as in real life when you meet a real person who acts odd, hold off a minute before jumping to conclusions. Try adjusting your perspective a little before deciding they “aren’t acting right” no matter if they are spectrumy or neurotypical.

Years ago I read a book titled Pretending to be Normal about one autistic female’s experiences. It was quite good. I need to reread it before I review it, but it’s on my ever lengthening To Be Reviewed list.

I plan to get to the book Aspergirls as well, someday.

The children’s novel Rain Reign, has a girl on the spectrum as its main character. It was an excellent read. You can find my review of that novel here.

Can you think of any fictional female characters who display aspie traits on television shows or in movies? Books? If any come to mind, please list them in the comments.

*******

Side Note: I have focused my energy on writing a YA series that has a character with high functioning autism. Currently, all three novels are in the editing stage. One of them features an aspie romance. If you’d like to stay informed about my novels, you can sign up for my newsletter. It’s the second sign up box.

If you would like to be a beta reader, sign up for my newsletter and send me a message to let me know you are interested.

Thanks so much!

Cleaning Day

“I should be mad at you for not letting me take the car,” she says. Her brows arch in surprise. “But I’m not.” She smiles. A small, sweet smile. The one I would sew a thousand tiny doll dresses, go on a million trips to the park, and bake a hundred chocolate cupcakes for. A yesterday smile.

She is mine for a few weeks. She told me so before finals. She said, “I will be hanging around the house for five weeks.”

I know that won’t happen. She already has plans. There are friends, events to go to, and a dance workshop.  There is a boy. There is always a boy.

Her schedule fills up so fast I can barely squeeze in her dental appointments, an eye exam, and a doctor visit. And she really should be evaluated for that persistent weakness in her ankle. She twisted it at school months ago, stumbling on the theater stairs.

“You were right, Momma,” she told me then. “I should have tossed those boots.”

The worn down heels made her ankles pronate. After she fell that day, I snatched the boots away and trashed them, sending her to buy new shoes with her ankle wrapped tight.

It’s summer break. Today she stays home. We clean. The guys installed an exhaust fan in my bathroom, and the white powdery dust from new cut holes and whatever else they did invaded the master bedroom. It coats everything.

We wipe with damp cloths. I wonder aloud, more than once, why they didn’t consider covering my work space with plastic sheeting. She shrugs, grown wise in the ways of women, knowing I need to grumble and fuss at the mess, knowing it will not make the least impact on our men.

First years are hard, and Baby Girl isn’t so special she dodged the common freshman bumps along the road. Stress and grief dogged her, on too many days panting hard at her heels, snapping. More than once with blood-drawing teeth.

Yesterday she came up on me, armwrapping me from the side. “I feel content,” she said. Has she ever said that before? I wanted to breathe it in, cradle her contentment like an infant-holding  momma smelling her baby’s hair. She still has that peace about her, end of semester relief not yet morphing into boredom and fidgety unsettledness. We rest in this moment, the place between.

We wipe with the damp cloths. It’s so dusty. The rags have to be rinsed, over and over, water turning milky.

I go through the neglected stacks of papers. It wouldn’t be such a chore if I had kept up with the endless flotsam of every day life, but I couldn’t. Clutter accumulated without notice until now. The curtains needed washing, as did clothes left too long in untidy, neglected mounds waiting in vain to be folded away. The washer has been going all afternoon and in to evening. There are a pile of rags and towels in it now, waiting for tomorrow. It’s too late to start a wash now. Rugs are clean, floors mopped, ceiling fan dusted. The room practically echoes with good, simple clean.

I found things that have been lost for months. It’s good to wipe away the dust, to rest in the inbetween, finding contentment in the stripped down rooms of home.

 

How to Talk With Teens About 13 Reasons Why

13 Reasons Why is the Netflix special everyone is talking about. The series is rated MA for mature audiences and explores suicide, bullying, sexual assault, and many other serious topics teens and young adults face. The series contains graphic depictions in some episodes. I have not read the book 13 Reasons Why by Jay Asher yet, but it is my understanding that the book is significantly different. This post is about the Netflix series.

I searched for a discussion guide to go with the Netflix series but I am disturbed to find some had the tendency to minimize the issues. I found an excellent list of talking points to start meaningful discussion from the JED Foundation and provided that link below.

If you have any suggestions to add to my list, please put them in the comment section.

It seems a common thread among some of the people who discuss the series often include an element of denial. Instead of closing our eyes, perhaps a better way to address the issues brought up by 13 Reasons Why is to ask questions, listen, and guide our young people. If your teen or young adult has not watched, I still suggest parents look for ways to bring up the subject matter.

Thirteen Reasons Why is rated MA.

If your teen/young adult has already watched, I strongly suggest you watch each episode, stop, and discuss. Take time to process. This series deals with heavy topics and is emotionally draining.

Advice for Parents

Talking with kids can be hard. Decide what the most important topics are to bring up to your young person and ask questions, letting them do most of the talking. This is a time to offer guidance rather than lecture. Bring the topics up more than once.

I would be very honest with your young people. Perhaps not every person they go to for help will respond appropriately, but most adults are here to help. Sometimes asking once isn’t enough.

Relate a personal story to them if you have one and offer solutions.

Do not minimize your young person’s concerns and experiences.

Ask direct questions.

Talk to them. Not only once, but continually.

Know what they are watching.

I am not a mental health professional. The questions listed below are simply the type that can be used to start a dialog. Each of these suggested questions should lead to many more.

What did you take away from this story?

What do you think this series is about? Is it about more than one thing?(Some young people may miss that this story is driven by Hannah’s revenge against those she feels responsible for her suicide.)

Which of the characters seems the most balanced or healthy emotionally? Why do you think that is?

Are any of the depictions in this series believable? Which ones? Which actions are not?

What behaviors do each of the characters engage in that are questionable or plainly wrong? What should they have done? In this situation, what would you do?

What do you think you would do if you found yourself in some of the situations Hannah does?

How can you decide what secrets should be kept and which should be told? Who should you tell? Why or why not?

What are the signs of suicide? Other emotional issues?

How can you help someone who is suicidal?

How do our actions impact others? How do their actions impact us? How can we deal with that?

Who is the victim in this story? Is there more than one victim?

How does the school depicted compare to your school?

After each episode ask you young person for their takeaway, and what they thought. Examine the ideas put forth. Ask “what did you think” and “why or why not”.

If you seek help and are ignored or denied, what should you do then?

Does this story have a ‘call to action”? What is it?

Extension

What do you think of some of the reactions people have had to 13 Reasons? Can you give examples of appropriate/inappropriate reactions? Explain.

For further reading

Click here for a link to resources on 13 Reasons Why the Netflix Series from the National Association of School Psychologists

Click here for Talking Points from the JED Foundation.

 

Keep talking and discussing books, movies, and issues with your children and young adults.

 

Please add to the discussion by commenting below.

 

Baby Dresses

 

The smell of hot cotton fabric permeates the air. I used to hate ironing. I never could get every crease out. A ready iron in my hands had a tendency to create more problems than I could erase, playing hide and seek with wrinkles until it drove me to despair.

The trick is to iron only cotton fabric, cut into squares . I like the small, well-behaved pieces, the calm way they lay still for me, not like hard to manage shoulder seams that always want to squirm away when you try to hold them flat enough to iron.  Simple, unsewn pieces have no curves and strange corners.

I push down on the fabric, slowly drawing the heat across a multitude of tiny blue flowers. The busier the pattern, the less the wrinkles show. Still, I pass the iron over the field of blooms again and again, until the scent of hot cotton lingers, memories of little girl dresses.

I had other plans for this fabric. I can still picture the dress in my mind, the one I imagined when I chose this fabric. But then life happened. Time got away. The white and blue dress was never sewn.

The iron creaks. I never had the money for a good iron, so I made do. There were irons I coveted after. Maybe if I had owned one of those my ironing would have been more successful. Nevermind.

I whisk my palm across the hot fabric, not resting there, always moving, moving. I am going to put this in the shadowbox as a background for the dress.

I barely finished the dress in time. Last babies. You understand. The final embroidered flower was stitched in place while I was in the hospital bed recovering from my fourth c-section, and she was brand new to this world. Silk roses on a baby dress. What nonsense.

Two of the flowers need repair. I hesitate. Was it really so long ago her hands were small enough to catch the tiny loops and undo all my meticulous work? It was a trial to keep her from unraveling them all. I thread the needle.

White thread and a twist. One, two, three stitches. The thread knots. I take my time and unravel it. When I was younger, I was always in a hurry, leaving snarls and wadded thread behind on the back sides of my stiches, not worried about what didn’t show.  I tease out the tangle and leave a clean, smooth stitch behind.

On her way out she breezes by, her fingers lighting on the dress for two, maybe three, seconds as she walks by. She says, “When I have my baby girl, she will have her picture made in this dress.”

I say nothing, because even though we have said this very same thing a thousand times, I can’t say it today.

Not today.

She opens the door, her hand jiggling the keys impatiently. They hit against each other and jangle.

She has one foot out the door when I say, “Text me when you get there.”

The response is automatic. “I will, Momma.” Her mind is elsewhere, on her to do list.

Before I assemble the dress and backing into the shadowbox, I pass the iron over the blue flowered fabric one more time, breathing in the smell of hot cotton meant for little girl dresses.

Encouragement for Mothers: Diving In

 

You are ready.

It will be glorious or horrible and, most definitely, it will be messy. There will be sunshine and roses, rain and thorns.

This is what will happen.

The washer will break.

Flu will haunt your house like a hungry stray cat you accidentally fed.

Some days you will forget what blue sky looks like, but on other days you will be able to taste it when your mouth opens wide and lets laughter fly free.

There will be tears.

You will be expected to sweep up sharp broken pieces even while your bare soles are smudged with blood. You will never be enough and always be enough.

It will be scary hard. You will be forced to plant your feet, take ownership of your failures, and stare them down. You will fall short but you will be forgiven. You will learn to forgive yourself.

You will be pulled and stretched until every bit of your bounce is gone. Flexibility will be your middle name. On certain days you will wonder if the shape of deflated balloon is the permanent price your spirit will pay. But then, when you develop eyes to see the magnificence of stretch marks, the vision will leave you without air.

You will breathe beauty.

You will take a small hand in yours. If you don’t let go you will both grow into your feet, getting big enough to walk in the land of giants. You will begin to understand that perfection does not dwell in the world of mortals. In times to come, a backward glance will reveal the perfect, unerring, working out of the distance you have already traveled.

This is what will happen.

You don’t get it all. You get the prize.

Your sisters are all lined up along the edge. They will help you if you are wise enough to understand that you are not alone.

Dive deep.

You will be fine; more than fine. How do I know? Look at you, sister-friend, momma-lady, baby-girl.

You’re already treading water.

 

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Distracted

I’ve neglected my blog.

I have a million reasons why. I even have finished posts, somewhere, that I intended to put up, but they never made to the blogosphere.

Things around here are in what I like to call a “creative” phase. It’s a period of a thousand project beginnings and me hopping from one to another. It may seem like nothing gets finished, but I hope eventually progress will become evident. I’m banking on it.

There is a lot going on to distract me.

I have been working like crazy on the book-I-thought-was-almost-done and discovered it is a long way from the finish line.

This is our last year of homeschooling and that comes with a heap of things to finish, and quite a few to get into motion. Ready or not, this phase of our lives will soon be over. People always ask, “What will you do?” A friend of mine once answered that by saying, “Clean the house!” That is definitely not the answer I give. Usually I sigh dramatically and say, “Nothing! I’ll be retired! ” and we laugh.

I find myself distracted by the notion of endings quite often.

Baby Girl is, at this moment, practicing an en pointe competition dance. It is a variation on the same dance she has performed on stage since she was tiny. Whenever there has been a space between the last time I watched her dance to this song, Treasure of Jesus, and she practices it again, the tears come.

My very favorite memory of her dancing this particular piece was when she was about eight. It was late, and she was in her nightgown. I had come to tell her it was time for bed.  She didn’t know I was there, hidden in the shadow of the door frame, watching her sway to the music, lost in it, worshiping Jesus. It was one of those catch-your-breath moments that you know are a gift.

I watch her now, a beautiful accomplished young woman, still that little girl blowing kisses to Jesus. It presses on all the tender, hope-filled places of this mama’s heart.

There are so many things to get ready. This is a year of lasts and firsts, endings and beginnings. It is a strange place to be, living in a space over filled with happy sadness.

Forgive me if I’m a bit distracted.

Homeschooling Is Worth It

hsisworthit

This year will be my twenty-third year. That’s a long time to be enveloped by the lifestyle of home education. It will be my twenty-third year, and my last.

In the beginning, I was angry. I wasn’t ready for this. I felt forced into it. I graduated with honors and the inability to do much math beyond the basics. I could not analyze literature to save my life. Home educating was not part of my plan. We had moved to the best school district within driving distance of my husband’s work, but then it didn’t work out and we were going to home educate.

I wasn’t prepared.

It was a large undertaking, and I had a lot of studying to do. We got quite a few head shakes. Most people tried to convince me to quit. They couldn’t understand that I had made a commitment. The promise had been made and there was no going back.

There have been things I have kept to myself. Struggles no one but God has seen. I have kids with learning differences. I have a few myself. Health challenges. Incredible financial burdens. Other messy stuff. There is not enough Samsonite in the world to hold all this baggage, and not enough room in Texas to unpack it all.

But I made a promise. Was it hard to keep? Yes and no. Teaching them was not the hardest part, unless you caught me on a bad day, before I figured out bad days happen. Bad days don’t mean much in the grand scheme.

[tweet_this]Teaching them was not the hardest part, unless you caught me on a bad day, before I figured out bad days happen.[/tweet_this]

When Baby Girl came along and we knew she would be the last, I added up the years this home educating commitment of mine would take. In a moment of self-preservation to maintain mental health, I immediately forgot. I refused to count the days for a long, long, time. Instead, I decided to make them count for us.

They did.

We have made each other rich. The focus has always been relationships. Putting relationships first has arranged all the elements of teaching into proper place. Our purpose in educating is to give a foundation to fulfill each child’s calling and prepare students to do life. Listen more than speak.

[tweet_this]Putting relationships first has arranged all the elements of teaching into proper place.[/tweet_this]

My daughter chooses her own path. It is our philosophy to let the student lead. It is my job to provide guidance balanced with respect. Confidence in a student’s abilities and encouragement to do their best has been the method that served all my children well.

Many years ago a mom once asked me, “Is homeschooling hard?” I laughed. It was good I did not answer her that particular day.

[tweet_this]A mom once asked me, “Is homeschooling hard?” I laughed. It was good I did not answer her.[/tweet_this]

Some days it is hard. Very hard. There were days when I considered the cost, hard pressed to weigh out the pros and cons, and days when I thought about taking a different path. There were even a few in-between days when I felt unsure, and reevaluated plans, mulling over options. But in the end, after discussion and prayers, we kept on. My steps were careful. Cautiously bold is how I traveled this way.

In the quiet morning hour, the house is empty. Everyone is living their lives. My senior is at her job, teaching. She says she doesn’t understand why people get frustrated at those who are trying their best. Was this something I taught my children, or something they taught me? The best, most lasting lessons are the ones like these.

I wasn’t prepared for this either, the brilliant gifts that litter the days like gold strewn along an otherwise mundane path.

When I look back I am overcome by the enormity of this job well done, and overwhelmed by gratefulness. I am grateful for the freedom living in this land allows, the wisdom so generously shared by others who went before, and for the grace covered love that carried us through.

If you see me crying in the toothpaste aisle at the grocery, it’s not because I’m sad, or overcome with the prospect of empty nesting, or having a moment of regret.

It is because it’s beautiful.

Here I stand on the other side. Twenty-three years isn’t such a long time after all.

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Because Words Change the World

Today I am guest hosting Literacy Musing Mondays Linkup. Do you have a link to share? Book reviews, writing, anything literacy related is welcome. Please share with us! 

How has literacy impacted your life? This is one of my answers.

I’d heard it often enough, and I knew it to be true. Words have power. A good speaker can motivate, a book open your mind to new possibilities, an essay expand your horizons. Even a small word of encouragement can keep one on course. I knew it and I believed it.

becasuewordschangetheworlddandelion-797997_1280

I used words to try and talk to people. I asked and informed, explained and requested understanding. It was frustrating. Then I wrote a story. I wrote a story about my child’s day. I had no intention of having it published or really doing anything with it.  I need to make it clear that this was no earth shattering prose. It was only a simple, every day essay. The kind you would see on a mom blog.

I tucked my essay into my Bible study book. I don’t remember why the leader asked if anyone had anything to share, but I felt that nudge in my spirit. I ignored it. Speaking out was not my thing. She asked again. No one knew I had that sheet of paper in my book, about my frustration, or my writing. Then she asked again. By this time, people were looking around. I couldn’t read it out loud myself, so I handed it to her and asked her to read for me.

People cried. More than that, my son’s world changed because the story, a plain little story about a little boy who liked things all boys like, had drawn others into his world. So they made room for him in theirs.

There are journeys impossible to fathom unless you walk them, and battles only understood from an altered perspective. Story lets the reader experience connection. Our point of view shifts. Suddenly we can see something we never saw before. Perception becomes clear. Truth is revealed.

Words and story can open hearts. Words can build community. Sometimes, words can simply make a little boy feel accepted.

And the whole world changes.

Becasuewordschangetheworldspring-flower

 

 

Now it is time to linkup to Literacy Musing Mondays. This link up is for all bloggers who love to write anything literacy related such as essays about the love of reading and/or writing, book reviews, or posts about fun literacy activities. All family-friendly posts are welcome. 😉

 

Literacy Musing Mondays

Ashley from www.circlingthestory.com

Ashley @Circling the Story

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Mary @Maryandering Creatively

Blog/Facebook/Twitter/Pinterest/ Instagram

Tami @ThisMomsDelight

Blog, Facebook, Pinterest, Twitter, Instagram, Google Plus

Last Week’s Top Clicked Post!

 

Mary’s book review of Warrior Chicks by Holly Wagner was the most clicked! She is so excited about everyone’s support! She loved this book so check out the review if you have not already done so.

Mary still wanted to feature a great literacy blogger this week; so, she selected the second most clicked post to feature: this wonderful post:

Books About Bears Your Preschooler Will Love

By Carolyn at House Full of Bookworms


Carolyn features some sweet books about bears. I love all of her selections! You don’t want to miss this one either. Plus, it really is worth it to visit Carolyn’s fun site!

You could be next to be featured! Remember, we try to make it worth your while to linkup with us by promoting your posts across our social media networks. We also pin your posts to our Pinterest Board!

Follow Mary Hill’s board Literacy Musing Mondays Linkup on Pinterest.

You will have until Saturdays at 12 p.m. now to link up! So come back often. :)

Literacy Musing Mondays

Linkup Rules:

  1. Include a link back or the blog hop button linked to this hop on your posts.
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  3. Please remember this is a family-friendly linkup. We reserve the right to delete any posts that are not family friendly. We love all kinds of literature and genres including family-friendly inspirational romances, fantasy, or scifi. We do not welcome anything with excessive sexual content or cursing.
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