Sunday May 24, 2026 – 129 words and finished the children’s story I was working on
Monday May 25, 2026 – a busy day full of driving meant I didn’t manage to open the manuscript
Tuesday May 26, 2026 – another day without opening the manuscript, but our home life should settle a bit more now that seeding is over and my husband will be back to a normal routine
Wednesday May 27, 2026 – 387 words on my manuscript in progress to bring it to 8,944
Thursday May 28, 2026 – 131 words on my manuscript in progress to bring it to 9,075
Friday May 29, 2026 – opened the manuscript but no new words today
Saturday May 30, 2026 – 330 words on my manuscript in progress to bring it to 9,405
When I started a writing mentorship in the fall of 2024 my mentor asked me what genre I wrote, what genre I wanted to learn how to write, and what genre I never saw myself writing.
I said I considered myself a Christian Fantasy writer, I’d love to learn how to write science fiction, and I could never see myself being a romance writer (I kind of like throwing dark endings into my stories and that’s a big no no with romance).
However, in this season of raising babies and having very little working memory leftover for carrying large new world and magic systems I am finding that writing stories anchored in the world I already know is much more sustainable.
As such my current manuscript in progress is a romance novella (I think it could get long enough to be a novel by the time I finish, time will tell). So why write a genre I never saw myself writing before? Especially when it is one I don’t read a lot?
Well, I recently had a story idea and I decided to go for it, even if it took me a year to finish 25,000 words. I know that writing makes me a better version of me. I know that writing helps me relax and take a deep breath. Writing gets all the anxiety and anger and confusion out onto the page so I have a clear head for connecting with my family.
If writing does that for me I know I need to just be writing. It doesn’t matter what I write. Or how much I write each day. But that I come back to writing every day. That I free myself from the rules of what should be written. How it should be written. Or how much I need to write in a day to “be a writer”.
The important thing in this season is…
Just. Be. Writing.
The romance story I started isn’t ready to share yet, but this little children’s story is and I think maybe it kind of fits.
Let me know if you think it fits.
Henrietta and the Hot Soapy Water
Housedragons like to live in houses because any time someone cares for the house it creates a spark. And housedragons love gobbling up those little sparks.
Today’s story is about a housedragon named Henrietta. Sometimes when she is hungry she will give her family a little help to get those sparks flying…
Henrietta blinked her tired eyes and looked around the hearth where she slept.
It was cold and dark. A draft coming down the chimney made ashes swirl around her.
She watched the mother come out of the bedroom and into the kitchen.
The mother looked long at the dirty dishes covering the kitchen counters in stacks and heaps.
She closed her eyes and sighed. Her shoulders dropped towards the dirty floor.
Then she turned and returned to her bedroom.
Henrietta followed. She saw the children playing in their room. It was tidy and their bed was made…
Because they had a good mother that always made sure they had a cozy, beautiful place to sleep.
Then she flew into the mother’s bedroom. There were no dirty clothes on the floor, just an overflowing pile in the hamper.
She could tell the bed had been made because the quilt lay smooth and straight across it.
Except for a lump where the mother had crawled back beneath the protective embrace of the covers.
Henrietta flew back to the kitchen and landed on the countertop. Her tail dragged and her wings drooped.
She stared at the sink full of dirty dishes. No room left to even wash your hands or fill a pot for cooking in.
Henrietta wasn’t supposed to care for the house, that was the mother’s job, but the mother needed help.
And it was Henrietta’s job to watch over the family.
With a twitch of her tail the dirty dishes from the sink jumped up and stacked themselves on the only empty piece of countertop.
Another twitch and the water was running.
Henrietta squeezed herself between the faucet and the backsplash to reach the soap.
A little drop of the lemony yellow liquid had fluffy white suds filling the sink in a few minutes.
A while later, after the children called out to their mother that they were hungry, the mother returned to the kitchen.
She frowned at the sink full of hot soapy water. Then she shrugged and washed a few dishes.
Not all of them.
Just enough…
So she had room on the counter to make a few yummy jelly sandwiches.
Her boys lit up when she brought them their food.
And Henrietta licked up the tiny spark floating above the sink full of dirty dishwater.
For the next three days before every mealtime Henrietta would race to the kitchen before the mother got there.
She’d twitch her tail and fill the kitchen sink with hot soapy water.
The mother would frown at the sink but then dip her hands in and wash as many dishes as she could until everyone was ready to eat.
On the fourth morning Henrietta overslept, her eyes snapped open and she saw the mother in the kitchen. It was too late for her to fill the sink.
Henrietta flew to the kitchen and perched on top of the fridge. The mother hummed a tune while she plugged the sink and started the tap.
Hot soapy water filled the sink, tiny shimmering bubbles floated up beside the yellow sparks that Henrietta loved to snap up and swallow.
A satisfied smile brightened her face.
She was proud of the mother.
She didn’t put it off anymore.
She just got started.
Henrietta played with suds bubbles and snapped up sparks until her belly glowed with contentment.
She decided she made the right choice…
A tail twitch here or there never hurt anyone.
The sink never stayed empty for long, but the counters were never buried in dishes again.
And the sparks kept coming.
The End