Rebecca M. Douglass, Author

I think I'm overdue for a writer check-in. I've been visiting a friend in Maine and enjoying fall color, walks in yellow-orange-red forests, and good times with friends. But there has also been some time to write (at least, to write those hasty #writephoto flash pieces!) and to think about writing. "Thinking about writing" sounds like the sort of thing you do when you want to be a writer but don't want to actually do the work, so let me clarify. I'm thinking fairly specifically about a new novel in development (while I wait to see what I'm going to do with the one I worked on for the last year). I am, in fact, plotting my next murder while I walk (in a manner of speaking. No actual people are hurt in this plotting, though inattention to where I'm walking may injure me if I'm not careful). The process of developing a new story is a somewhat long and convoluted one for me. I start with a germ of an idea. In this case, like the last, it was the discov

It's WritePhoto time! Image by KL Caley I'm writing this for the weekly #WritePhoto challenge by KL Caley at New2Writing.com. Read all about it and join in if you'd like! Mine's a bit creepy, a bit of crime, and a bit of humor. Around 860 words this week. On the Tower Gervais the Gargoyle clung, as he had for over a century, to the side of the crenellated tower of the absurdly fake castle. Not that Gervais knew that. How could he know what was absurd in architecture? He had taken form in a stonemason’s workshop and been carted at once to the Abernathy-Foyle home in the year 1843. It was a big year for fake castles and gargoyles, another fact of which Gervais wasn’t cognizant.   What Gervais did know was everything that was done or said in range of his stone eyes and stone ears, which could see and hear a great deal farther than anyone might have suspected.   In actual fact, of course, no one expected or suspected that Gervais could see or hear anything. Tho

Read the complete TMB series :  Part 1    Part 2     Part 3    Part 4   Part 5   Part 6 TMB Day 6: Rifugio Bonatti to La Fouly (Italy to Switzerland) Since the Bonatti Refuge was in the mountains, not in town, I was up and outside at the crack of dawn to see what photos might be taken. It wasn't the best early morning I've done, but the mountains were beautiful in the early light. Bonatti hut with Monte Bianco in the distance catching the morning sun. After being up very early for the photos, it seemed an eternity until breakfast at 7 or 7:30. We finally got fed (as noted last week, breakfast was limited in scope but all-you-can-eat so we were able to get enough food to go on with), and headed out. Today's hike was the  longest of the whole trip, and we had a major pass to climb (and descend even farther), so we didn't dilly-dally. The first part of the walk, however, was a fairly easy traverse with fantastic views. Through the window of one of the many ruined build

Cemetery – Image by KL Caley For visually challenged writers , the image shows a cemetery path with graves and trees aligning each side of it.   I'm writing this for the weekly #WritePhoto challenge by KL Caley at New2Writing.com. Read all about it and join in if you'd like! I think this is meant to be a fall thing for Halloween, but I'm seeing trees just leafing out, not ones that have dropped their leaves, so I put it in early summer.   Around 800 words this week. Cemetery Visit   The shadows were growing longer, though the sun was still bright and the sky blue. In the long alley between the trees there were hints of the darkness that would envelop the cemetery soon enough.   Lauren stood close to a tall, lean pine tree. It felt warm and living, and the scent of it helped calm them. Why had the boys said they had to come here so early to start their night in the graveyard? Maybe it was to give them a way out—surely at this hour someone would

Read the complete TMB series :  Part 1    Part 2     Part 3    Part 4   Part 5   Part 6     Courmayeur Rest Day #1 After about 5 days of significant hiking, we were happy on our first day in Courmayeur to just play tourist in a lazy fashion. We did a walking tour of town, including the old town of Dolonne across the river, before returning to our hotel to spend the afternoon resting. The morning started with beautiful sights indoors... ... and out.      Old Dolonne. I am always fascinated by the ancient walls and doors in places like this. By way of contrast with all the old buildings, we found this very modern sculpture tucked into a courtyard not far from our hotel. I could find no markings indicating title or even who made it. For the record, our restful wanderings totaled about 4 miles. Courmayeur Rest Day 2: Mt. Blanc Skyway Our second rest day was more exciting, and involved much less walking. Having figured out how the day before, we took the bus up the valley a bit to take

  Title: Into the Silence: The Great War, Mallory, and the Conquest of Everest Author:  Wade Davis, read by Enn Reitel Publication Info: Random House Audio, 2011, 29 hours. Original hardback, Knopf Canada, 2011, 672 pages. Source: Library (Overdrive) Publisher's Blurb: If the quest for Mount Everest began as a grand imperial gesture, as redemption for an empire of explorers that had lost the race to the Poles, it ended as a mission of regeneration for a country and a people bled white by war. Of the twenty-six British climbers who, on three expeditions (1921-24), walked 400 miles off the map to find and assault the highest mountain on Earth, twenty had seen the worst of the fighting. Six had been severely wounded, two others nearly died of disease at the Front, one was hospitalized twice with shell shock. Three as army surgeons dealt for the duration with the agonies of the dying. Two lost brothers, killed in action. All had endured the slaughter, the coughing of the gun