Linda G. Hill

Life in progress


#SoCS – Bizarre Bazaar

One of the books I’m reading right now is The Bazaar of Bad Dreams by Stephen King. I remember the first time I looked at the title, I wondered if he was talking about bizarre bad dreams because these two words cause a glitch somewhere in my noggin’ that makes me not know which is which. Or which has which meaning. If I think about it for a few seconds, I remember which is witch; I’m sure people all over have those words.

Did you see what I did back there? It was deliberate. Honest.

I wonder if it was some kind of witchery that made whoever came up with the English language (or any language?) invent words that sound the same that are spelled differently. You know, just to confuse us. Someone who, one day, was at a bazaar maybe and picked up a clementine and a tangerine and thought, “Well that’s bizarre. Two fruits that look the same and taste almost the same but have different names. I can come up with a language that’s that confounding!” And so English was born. From a little orange. Which is something else altogether.

And that’s the sort of post you get from Linda when she’s tired. 😛 Because really, she loves making up stories. They just sort of … fall out. Or leak out through her fingertips. Why the hell am I referring to myself in third person all of a sudden? It’s like I’m not me. Sometimes when I write fiction, I’m not me. I disappear and stuff comes out of me. Bizarre, isn’t it? Stuff of words and language and characters and sometimes it’s like I’m being taken over by something outside of me, something that guides me. Sounds scary, but it’s not. It’s freeing.

I wonder if this is how horror writers write. To think up something that we’d never do takes a certain je ne sais quoi. I know this because I write horror, but when I started this paragraph, I was thinking about Stephen King, who started this whole idea for a post in the first place. Damn it, Stephen! Yeah, I know it’s not his fault, but what to do?

But back to the whole “how am I able to come up with horror ideas that I’d never do in real life” question. I think it comes from fear. Fear of having things done to us by others who are capable of them. And with a vivid imagination comes a lot of fears, I’m afraid. Ha! I’m afraid. Get it?

Probably time for bed.

This post is part of Stream of Consciousness Saturday. Click the following link and join in! And while you’re there, check out some of the other posts in the comments.



#SoCS – Insanity Reigns

Well, I’ll give myself a pat on the back. This is two weeks in a row that I’ve missed my own prompt on the day it was supposed to be posted. My excuse this week is insanity.

It’s funny. I’ve been driving myself nuts with all the preparations and advertising and stuff for my book, and what have I been wishing for? Those nice, calm days when I was busy editing someone else’s work. Which is crazy for me, because normally I’m not happy unless I’m writing. Somehow I must know this, even when I’m not conscious of it and you wanna know how I know? Because I signed up for July’s NaNoWriMo camp.

Because I have nothing better to do. HA!

I’m totally rambling tonight. Can you tell? And I haven’t even been drinking. Not since the cup of coffee I had at dinner, at least. I did just put a bottle of white wine in the freezer so I can have some before bed though. Kind of insane, if you ask me.

I should probably rein in all this craziness. But that’s me. I can’t stop challenging myself and I have no idea why. It’s almost as though if I slow down, I’ll waste away to nothing. So I just keep piling it on. I may just explode one day. Though I should probably implode – less messy. And the last thing I need is more housework on top of everything else.

This post is brought to you by Stream of Consciousness Saturday on Sunday morning because I’m such a rebel. Click here for details:


#SoCS – The Weather

Whether you’re from the east coast or the west coast or somewhere in between, if you’re Canadian, you love to talk about the weather. It’s our national pasttime, aside from drinking our Timmie’s and jumping into a frozen lake on the first of January. …okay, not all of us are that brave. I’m not that brave. Scratch that last one.

The weather was lovely today. I sat outside (in the car) and read my book for an hour while I waited for my son to get out of his movie. With the windows down and everything! (In the car, not in the movie.) I sometimes hate not being able to fix my grammar when I write a SoCS post. Why did I make up that rule? Oh yeah. To make it feel like we’re actually sitting down, talking together. My grammar isn’t as good when I speak, compared to when I edit what I’ve written. And let’s face it, who’s going to stop listening to me because my spoken grammar sucks? Wait… nobody listens to me anyway. Never mind.

What was I talking about again? Oh yeah, the weather. It went up to 24C today. Perfect. My best friend, John, came over and cut the grass – he brought his own lawn mower since mine kicked the bucket. Luckily I only have a front yard to worry about. The back is still just dirt. And speaking of dirt (and mud), I had a smell outside today that was so rotten that I called the gas company to come and check to see if there was a leak. Turns out my next door neighbour was emptying his pool of skunky water. Yeah, it was that bad. And where did he drain it? Let’s just say Winston’s paws were wet when he came in.

Thank goodness for my back door neighbour’s beautiful yard. Makes up for my muddy one and the next door neighbour’s stinky one – as long as I keep the windows closed and the dog in. But who wants to do that with all this lovely weather?

Stream of Consciousness Saturday (yeah, I know, it’s Sunday now – shoot me) is brought to you by me and my prompt, here: check it out!



Attack of the Puppy-Sized Spider

So I’m driving down the highway last night, cruising along at about 115km/hr (around 75mph) when out of the corner of my eye I see the silhouette of a spider crawling down my window.

“Oh God, it’s a spider,” I exclaim to my adult son in the passenger seat.

“I see it,” he says.

“Can you kill it? Without going across my line of sight?”

“Maybe,” he says. He’s panicking too. He hates bugs. He once tried to jump out of a moving van because we had a fruit fly travelling with us. No joke. Okay, he was three years old at the time, but you get the picture.

“If you can’t kill it, just watch where it goes. Tell me if it gets too close to me. NO WAIT! Don’t tell me.”

“Okay. I won’t tell you. But you might want to pull over.”

“I can’t pull over for a spider!! We’re on the frickin’ highway!”

“Okay, okay,” he says, sounding more anxious than ever. “But you don’t want to know where it is right now.”

“DON’T TELL ME! DO YOU WANT TO DIE?” We’re passing two transport trailers at this point, and I’ve sped up to 130 to get to the offramp. We’re almost home.

“NO! No, it’s okay. It’s nowhere near you.”

We stay quiet. I’m trying to sit as far away from the driver’s door as possible; I can see him looking my way out of the corner of my eye.

“It’s really dark,” he says. “I don’t see it anymore.”

I get off the highway and force myself to stay calm until we get to the parking lot of the nearest Tim Horton’s. As soon as I park the car I start looking for the beast.

“It crawled along your arm and into the back seat,” my son admits. “It was only this big though.” He holds his hand up and forms an “o” that’s less than the size of a dime.

“No, it’s huge,” I argue.

He looks at me, but says nothing.

“Well, thank you for not telling me it was crawling on me,” I say. “I didn’t want to die tonight.”

“Me neither.”

Then I say, “Okay, I’m going in to get a coffee. You stay here and look for the spider.” (It’s such a privilege, being a mom.)

“Get me a croissant,” he says. It’s the least I can do.

A few minutes later he comes into the restaurant. “I couldn’t find the spider.”

“Oh no,” I sigh.

I managed to get us the rest of the way home without freaking out last night, but we still haven’t found the spider. Despite the fact that it was the size of a puppy.

Anyone want a really cheap car?


One-Liner Wednesday – I’m Baffled

Why would they hang red dresses from the trees around an Anglican church? Am I missing something?


If you would like to participate in this prompt, feel free to use the “One-Liner Wednesday” title in your post, and if you do, you can ping back here to help your blog get more exposure. To execute a pingback, just copy the URL in the address bar on this post, and paste it somewhere in the body of your post. Your link will show up in the comments below. Please ensure that the One-Liner Wednesday you’re pinging back to is this week’s! Otherwise, no one will likely see it but me.

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As with Stream of Consciousness Saturday (SoCS), if you see a pingback from someone else in my comment section, click and have a read. It’s bound to be short and sweet.

Unlike SoCS, this is not a prompt so there’s no need to stick to the same “theme.”

The rules that I’ve made for myself (but don’t always follow) for “One-Liner Wednesday” are:

1. Make it one sentence.

2. Try to make it either funny or inspirational.

3. Use our unique tag #1linerWeds.

4. Add our very cool brand new badge to your post for extra exposure!

5. Have fun!

#1linerWeds badge by Dan Antion


#SoCS – Interim

“In the interim” is when boredom happens. Between exciting times, when there’s nothing special going on and all you can think about is how much you wish something would drop in your lap: love, money, a new job, or the opportunity for a vacation, for instance. It’s the time where, when nothing is going on, you do something crazy like buy a cat or get addicted to a new game.

“In the interim” might be when creativity happens. Nothing to do but daydream… suddenly an idea pops up. Time to redecorate the house, take some pictures, paint, or write a book.

I haven’t been in the interim between books since 2011. I’ve been writing the same one — or the same series — for five-and-a-half years. I wonder what it would be like to be between books. Totally between them. Just thinking about it conjures thoughts of freedom. Running through meadows of wildflowers, climbing trees, swimming in rivers, and jumping on a trampoline. Time to allow my mind to wander, and not stress over how long it’s going to take to get something ready for publication.

I see authors handing their manuscripts to editors and I envy them. I imagine them bent over their keyboards and notepads, writing their next epic tale, unworried for a while what might be happening with their finished manuscript. I’d love to be able to write non-stop. With no interim.

Wait… wasn’t that what I just said I didn’t have? Gotta get writing.

This post is brought to you by Stream of Consciousness Saturday, just in time to be published before Sunday. If you’d like to join in, you can find the rules and the prompt here:



Of all the posts I’ve written that might have seen a lot of traffic, I didn’t suspect Song-Lyric Sunday – If I Had Words – Babe would be the one. But for some strange reason, it is.

It was originally published on May 29th last year. The views dropped off for a while but they started to pick up around mid-September. The last day it didn’t get a view was November 7th, 2016. It has almost 1,000 views already this year.

The movie is 22 years old. Are they remaking it? I dunno. But for some reason, the song is still very popular.