A Chat With a Bat

Posted on August 22, 2019 by Janelle Hooper

A Chat with a Bat

Janelle Meraz Hooper

So, yesterday, while I was recording a video, I heard something stuck in my fireplace chimney. This has happened before so I prepared to rescue what I was certain was a little fruit bat. Armed with a flashlight, mirror, and enticements of dried apricots and water, I tried to coax the little guy down the chimney so I could let him out through the back door. I spent a good deal of time trying to save this unseen creature, murmuring a stream of encouraging words and promises meant to assure him that he was in no danger from me (“…If you’re a turtle I’m going to keep you forever and ever!”).

The bat wasn’t at all swayed by my melodious, comforting tones. He chose to go out the same way he came in. About 30-minutes into the failed rescue I realized I’d forgotten to turn off my video editor. It had recorded every word I’d said. I spent the rest of the afternoon trying to figure out how to delete my little impromptu Chat with a Bat. No one would ever know about the dingy writer who doesn’t know a bat from a turtle.

Note: Photo by jmh. No, I didn’t through the turtle into the fire, but I’m short on turtles and bats around here…plus, my brother-in-law gave the turtle to me!

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Penelope’s Pumpkin Shell

Posted on July 31, 2019 by Janelle Hooper

I write these little ditties whenever I get an idea so I won’t forget them. Maybe it’ll be a short story someday. For right now, it’s only on this blog.

Everyone called her Penny—except for her husband. After being married for over 2 years, he still called her Penelope. Lately, he’d added a sneer at the end. Especially when he called her on the phone.

Just then, the phone rang and she looked back at the table set with a white cloth and her favorite dishes from her grandmother and crossed her fingers before she answered it.

“You still home?” a gruff voice asked.

“Yes, I’m here all alone in my pumpkin shell. I’m making us a roast chicken dinner for tonight and I’ve got your favorite homemade rolls rising.”

“I won’t be home in time for dinner. Go ahead and eat without me.”

“But you haven’t been home for dinner all this week!”

“You need to get out more and meet some people, Penelope. I can’t be there all the time just to play house with you.”

Suddenly, Penny was angry. “Well, maybe I will. Maybe I’ll find a new friend with a big zipper on his pants who has all his parts working.”

The phone went dead. Penny was shaken. Maybe she went too far this time, she thought as she went to the kitchen to see if the rolls had risen enough to put in the oven.

About forty minutes later, the garage door opened and her husband came into the kitchen, dragged her to their bed and made love to her until she was breathless. “How did you get home so early?” She asked.

“I have to go back. I just came home to show you that all my parts still work…they just don’t work for you.”

On his way back through the kitchen to get to his car, he twisted a chicken leg off the chicken that was still in the roasting pan and pulled a fresh, warm roll out of the bread pan. It would be his last one.

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Photo by author with thanks to Joyce Stevens.

Video making from scratch

Posted on April 29, 2019 by Janelle Hooper

My new hobby is making book trailers. Here’s one I made for a friend. PB & Kindle on Amazon. Makes a great gift! Are You Singing Your Song? was written by Val Dumond.

There is no voiceover in either of these. I have now switched to a video editor that will make this easier.

Here’s another one I made for When Roosters Fly, also written by Val Dumond. I love the music I found for this one. The book is a wonderful senior romance. Available in PB & Kindle. Check it out! Another great gift!

Book #3- One-Sentence Stories

Posted on April 10, 2019 by Janelle Hooper

**Book #3 of One-Sentence Stories**
**(Muddy Puddle Press)**
**is now on Amazon**

What happens when a large group of writers decide to have some fun? Maybe a book like this! When I was contacted to contribute stories for this edition, I jumped on the chance to have some fun. First, I wrote “Don’t Klingons Eat Tacos?” but that was only the beginning. On a more somber day, I sat down and wrote, “A Quilt for the Alligator Eggs”. On my own I’d have never written these stories so far out of my normal genre (Romance/Suspense), but the freedom to sit down and just play with words was too good to pass up. I’m sure the other writers felt the same way. So here it is, a collaboration of over 50 writers from all over the world. Proof that sometimes, writers never know what they’re thinking until they put their hands on a keyboard. Check it out!

Amazon-This is the third amazing anthology of stories, each written in a single sentence (from 200 to 2000 words) on all kinds of subjects from love and romance to memoirs, mystery, adventure and mis-adventure, personal experiences, to… life, some very serious, some ditzy and silly, but all written by 50 writers from around the world, including beginners and professionals, and all without ending the sentence until the story is told, and if you think this is an easy task, try it yourself, and be surprised at how much fun you can have. Reduce stress, improve your writing, and have a ton of fun.

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**See my other books and stories on Amazon. Free preview samples.**

Archie and Arizona

Posted on April 7, 2019 by Janelle Hooper

Archie and Arizona
Janelle Meraz Hooper

My husband had a tough Uncle Archie who lived his retirement years in Idaho, land of big fish, plentiful deer, trapping, and poker tables. A world-class boxer in the army, his career as an army cook had led him all over the world, including Burma to help build the Burma Road. Archie’s feet hit the floor every morning at 4:00 A.M. EVERY MORNING. Archie was on Army Time.

On cold, winter mornings, he’d throw an old fishing shirt over his hairy shoulders and put on the coffeepot. While the coffee perked, he’d stand in the middle of his cabin’s kitchen, rub his arms and chant, “Arrr-i-zona!” Over and over again. After a quick cup of coffee, he’d start frying thick slices of bacon and a whole skillet of eggs. There were only four of us but Archie didn’t cook small. Breakfast was at 4:30 AM and you had better be there. He insisted upon it.

In 1962, The first time I visited him and his wife, Frances, during a college break, I tried to pull the old crazy quilt over my head and ignore him. I can still remember him standing in the kitchen doorway, looking at my bundled body on the living room couch and schooling me on his house rules: “Breakfast is at 4:30, little lady. You’re already late!”

Why am I telling you this? Because on icy March mornings in Washington State, when I flip on the deck lights and see snow or frost, I understand how Archie felt. Enough already! As I throw a Keurig cup in the coffeemaker, I shiver, throw an old pink sweatshirt over my bare arms and chant, “Arizona! Ariiii-zona!” It’s on mornings like this that I miss the old man most of all.

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Janelle Meraz Hooper, author

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