Questions to ask as a writer in 2020: What about everything that is going on now? Will it change my story?

1918 nurses with dog and masks
1918 Nurses and their dog wearing masks.

These are strange times, as if you didn’t already know.

I’m working on a project. It is fiction. I have questions. My story/book/novel takes place in contemporary America, in California, with somewhat regular people. This isn’t an epic fantasy. I have questions and I can’t just make up the answers.

Writing Questions as of July 6, 2020:

How long will we be wearing masks?

How long will seniors be in danger?

Will there be relaspes of Covid-19? What will happen if that happens?

What about other diseases?

Who will win the election in November and what fall out will there be from that? No matter what happens it will be weird.

Will Melania Trump divorce her husband and go after my main character? She isn’t his type, but he is awfully attractive so she just might have to stalk him. Damn, that would make a weird story. You know I just put this one in for shits and grins.

Will we ever be able to go to live baseball games again?

Will people still be social distancing in 2025?

Will this become (heaven forbid I use this term) the new normal?

Will any of my character be survivors, or carriers, or know someone who have been sick from Covid-19 or died from it?

Should any of this matter?

What about younger characters who are in high school, college, or trade schools? What about kids wanting to join the military? What will happen when everyone starts going back to school?

Will working at home become more of the rule rather than the exception?

What else is going to happen? Aliens? Giant atomic reptiles? Natural disasters we can’t handle because our government is so fucked up? More strange illnesses? Doomsday cults gone amuck? Talking dogs? Big Foot comes out of the woods to help out? The possibilities are endless.

What about fire season? With prison lock downs are there going to be enough crews to work the fires? How will this impact my character’s lives, not to mention mine?

How will this impact relationships? I’m talking about marriages, parents and children, romantic partners, friends, relatives, siblings, work relationships, friends with benefits, and everyone else.

What about divorced parents who have children together, even if those children are grown? In my story they’re grown.

Did this impact your character’s jobs/careers?

What about the crazy election and politics? Did any of that impact your characters? Did it drive anyone apart?

How about diversity? Are you changing anything in your writing to reflect that? My own kids have a diverse group of friends of all colors, ethnic backgrounds, and sexual orientations. They are who they are. Do I need to mention details? One character is gender fluid but so are people I know in real life. How does one write about diversity without being overly contrived or stupid. I’ve done it on my blog, right here, in the past. It worked. Maybe I’m over thinking this.

When I used to work in advertising someone, usually a marketing director, always wanted to have a black male, a racially ambiguous lighter skinned brown (who could pass for white if he had to) male person, and an Asian female (because you could get a minority and a female for a two in one deal) in the ad. It was so trite. It was so false and just pissed me off.

Did your characters participate in demonstrations?

What are their political views? Have those views changed? How are they talking to their children about it? Do they agree with their kids, or can they even talk to them about it without yelling?

I am still sure I can and will call out racists, sexist assholes, anti-vaxxers, religious fanatics, those who don’t believe in science, flat Earthers, and people who like the books 50 Shades of Gray, The Twilight Series, and Bridges of Madison County. OK maybe not the readers. At least they read.

What about the environment? Again, what about the environment? WHAT ABOUT THE ENVIRONMENT?

Will J.K. Rolling ever shut up about trans people?

Will there still be cat memes?

What about music?

Netflix? You know.

Did your character stop smoking and get into shape, or did they gain the Covid 19?

What or who did they miss most? What were they glad to get back to the most? What or who were they glad NOT to be around during the stay-at-home orders?

Does everyone adopt more shelter animals? I’m at overload at my house but maybe my characters adopt a few dogs, cats, or other critters during the shut downs.

These questions go on and on.

From my own experience I know as a writer that some stories become outdated pretty quickly. When my kids were tiny I started writing an epic techno/fantasy/romance/adventure that is over 200,000 words. The point of telling you this is that I need to go back and change a few things in it, because things have changed over the past twenty years. Attitudes have changed, and even though the story is fantasy and in a place that isn’t really our Earth, some things still apply. The entire Southern Hemisphere of their planet is a toxic wasteland due to environment disasters. There are social issues dealing with people who are different. There are assholes and bigots. There is drug use. But anyway, it is still a damn fine story and after a few more years maybe I’ll edit it and throw it out to the wolves.

But I’m rambling…

As writers we must constantly be thinking about how our world changes. That is the beauty of blogging, that is you write constantly in smaller bites so everything is always fresh.

So, I have nothing else to say on this right now. I just need to get back to my book. Oh, and don’t forget that Camp NaNoWriMo 2020 is happening right now if you want to join in. Here is the link to get there: https://nanowrimo.org/what-is-camp-nanowrimo

Damn I feel bad for all of the kids who have to miss summer camp this year.

I’ll yack at you more later and bug Vlad for a new Vampire Diary post.

  • Wear your mask
  • Be nice
  • Wash your hands
  • Read blogs
  • Eat your fruits and vegetables
  • Love your cats
  • Do some stretching
  • Don’t be a dick
  • Turn up the radio in your car and sing really loud
  • Stay safe
  • Kiss a Vampire (that is still relatively safe and always fun)

 

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

family and cat with masks 1918
1918. Family with masks – even the cat.

Pandemic Superhero Zoom – or – Put it OVER Your Nose and Mouth

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“Oh my gosh, Betty, I haven’t seen you in like forever. Not since we went wine tasting. What was that a month after my wedding?”

He looked at the first square to pop up on his Zoom meeting.

“That was it. Six cases of wine and now thanks to the pandemic we’re down to one. Jimmy, you look great. How are you?”

“Good all things considering. Robin is doing better than I expected. He’s changing careers.” A few more boxes popped up.

Mera, Betty, Mary Jane, Vicki, Iris. It was a good showing. They all greeted each other. Only Vicki and Lois were wearing makeup. Everyone looked pretty casual. Betty and Mera were wearing glasses instead of their usual colored contacts.

Jimmy: Vicki, it’s been forever since we’ve seen you? So you’re staying with Bruce I hear.”

Vicki: He asked me. HE asked me if I’d ride out the pandemic with him at his place. I thought it would be fun. That was in March. Four months later I’m ready to head home.”

Betty: Oh honey, I’m surprised he never asked you to marry him. That man needs a wife.”

Vicki: I might as well be his wife. I have to take care of everything for him. And don’t even get me started on Albert. He should have retired years ago. The poor old guy can hardly get his pants on by himself. I’m up all hours of the night. I keep a baby monitor by the bed in case he falls.

Jimmy: Oh man, I’m sorry to hear that. Robin didn’t say anything to me about it.

Vicki: Bruce is driving me crazy. He always has that fucking light on, you know the one with the wings. I tell him to turn it off, so he turns it off, then as soon as I as I go to do something else he has it on again. He isn’t the one who pays the electricity bill. Those big lights cost a fortune to light up the night sky with. Then everyone down below is wondering what the hell is going on. I tell him that but he won’t listen. He just sits up there on the roof all by himself muttering under his breath like some crazy guy hearing voices or something. And don’t even get me started on the mask thing. I keep telling him that it needs to completely cover his nose AND mouth. But does he do it?

All of the women nodded and muttered in agreement.

Lois: I know what you mean. When he’s just Clark and going down to Lowe’s for something or to the grocery story he wears a mask. When he has to go out flying he refuses. That asshole told me that he won’t catch Covid-19. I told him fine, but he could sure as hell carry it and give it to someone else.

Iris: Tell me about it. My man might be faster than anything known to man but when it comes to getting ideas through his thick skull he is slow as three toed sloth.

Mary Jane: My heart goes out to you ladies. Peter never had problems with masks. He love them. He decorated a bunch with spider web designs.

Lois: Peter is so adorable. You’re lucky to have such a sweetie.

Vicki: She is. Oh my God I am so fed up with the brooding. If the sex wasn’t so great…

Jimmy: Let’s keep it clean ladies. TMI.

Vicki: Sorry. I didn’t mean to vent.

Mera: You’re in a safe space Vicki. We’re here for you.

Vicki: Enough about me. How are you doing?

Mera: OK I guess. I miss everyone. We’re staying in the old light house. Here I’ll show you the view. It is spectacular.

Mera picked up her computer and turned the screen towards the ocean. The others could see dolphins dancing and gray whaled leaping into the air.

Lois: Wow Mera, I want to come stay with you.

Mera: Are you working from home?

Lois: Sure am but Clark thinks I’m some old fashioned house wife. The other day he told me all of his tights had holes in them. He expected me to fix them, or else order him some new ones. I told him the only place I could get tights these days in his size was the cross dresser drag queen sites. He got all pissed off at me. I told him to stop being a homophobic turd. I mean, he isn’t homophobic, you know that Jimmy, but sometimes he is so old fashioned it just drives me nuts.

Jimmy: So did you get him some tights?

Lois: Hell no. I told him to REI and get something practical to wear. He can still fly and be Superman without the silly costume. He can wear some climbing gear or bike shorts.

Betty: I think staying at home away from everything has been good for my Bruce. I don’t have the issue with tights, but he sure goes through pants fast when he Hulks up. He hasn’t lost his tempter or stressed out once in the past three months. I can’t even put into words how wonderful that is.

Jimmy: Well, I have news. Robin is changing careers.

All of the women perked up and asked in unison what was going on.

Jimmy: He got into a graduate program at University of California Davis. He’ll be studying ornithology, you know the study of birds. He’ll be Dr. Robin Grayson when he is done.

The ladies all sent their congratulations. For the next hour they talked in their tiny boxes about staying at home with their unique men. Occasionally a dog, a cat, or a child, an elderly relative would wander in and say hello.

When it was all done Jimmy Olson turned off his laptop and when into the kitchen where his husband Robin was fixing dinner.

Jimmy: Did I tell you how much I love you.

Robin: Every day. I love you to. It’s good to feel appreciated.

  1. Stay home
  2. Wear you mask over your nose and mouth
  3. Don’t think you can’t get this thing
  4. Wash your hands
  5. Appreciate those you’re stuck at home with. We’re all doing the best we can.
  6. Most of all don’t forget the real Superheroes during this pandemic.

 

Superheroes

 

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

 

Short Story Sunday: Captain Sandy and the Airship at the End of the World

Captain Sandy and the Airship at the End of the World

(Published as author Marla Todd)

The end of the world had come and gone a long time ago. Of course I wouldn’t dare remind Captain Sandy of that extraordinary fact. He stood in the basket of the airship, hands on the control, the tails of his jacket blowing in the wind.

When the end of the world came the evil and the damned were gathered up and taken down to Hell. The pure and righteous were led up to Heaven in a golden white light.

That left the artists and writers, along with a lot of musicians, wine makers, computer programmers and antiques dealers. Of course there were others, but nobody that lacked a certain amount of creative or innovative spirit. One must have spirit and imagination to survive when the world ends without you.

It worked for me. Well, at least most of the time.

I honestly have to say, the world had become way too serious. I adjusted my goggles and scarf as I looked down on the tire fire that had been burning for the past 100 years. Adjusting the leather hood on my cat, I took him out of his basket to take a look. My five year old son Aaron stood on his toes to get a look as I held tight to the back of his jacket. I must have been a sight, boy in one hand, cat in the other.

Life was an adventure to be savored and enjoyed. It was a destroyed world being built up by those of us with visions of beauty and wonder. Captain Sandy always said this was Heaven. Of course I never told him otherwise. It was Heaven to be in the arms of my husband at night and feel the touch of his skin on mine, that is until I’d run my hand over the deep scars on his back. I called him my fallen angel. He would just laugh and kiss me as only an angel could kiss. Maybe it was Heaven for him since he was now dead, but I will never know unless I die too and find him there.

Once when I was younger my brother and I found some old movies in where everyone at the end of the world were driving big trucks and dune buggies as they shot anyone they came across. There were zombies and crazy fucks of all sorts fighting for the last clean water. It seemed they had unlimited amounts of fuel and bullets. No word of steam, solar and silent airships.

My brother and I laughed at the stupidity of it all. That was not our world. Ours was a world to create without hesitation or critical review. Our poets were considered as important as our politicians. Our sense of style always outweighed our sense of practicality. At least we kept telling ourselves that – all of us did as we banded together trying to give off an air of hope and strength. We created our own world going back to a time that didn’t really exist, where all things were possible and the modern world was still a beautiful dream.

Captain Sandy asked me what I was thinking that could have me looking so serious.

I told him and he just shook his head.

“Life isn’t a theater play like you make it out to be my dear. There are dangerous things out in dark areas of stench and smoke that would enslave us and make us into meals if they could. You’ve been protected in your leather and velvet bustle dresses and fanciful thoughts. It’s a good thing to be ignorant of the world but it is dangerous in ways you can’t imagine.”

“Captain,” I said, “you forget that the shadows took my husband. I take flights of fancy so I won’t fall out of the sky and die of sorrow.”

He turned and gave me a quick smile. Despite the dark pattern of scars on the left side of his face the Captain was still a handsome man with a dazzling smile. All the women were quick to notice him.

“Why are you alone Captain?”

“I’m not.”

“No wife or children?”

“I had a wife. She vanished when the world ended. I never knew if she went up or down or just vanished to dust. Who knows. The bitch could still be around somewhere.”

“So you’re alone,” I said.

“Just free of my wife.” He said nothing else then took off his hat and tied his long prematurely silver hair back with a ribbon he’d pulled from his coat pocket. “So, did you like movies back in the time before?”

I nodded. Of course I liked movies. Most of them were gone now. Rare stashes of films could be found and if we were lucky we’d find something to play them on.

Captain Sandy smiled a rare smile at me. “Sometimes I’m floating along above this all, all of this and I start thinking about Blade Runner and then my mind goes to Casablanca or off to Princess Bride then to In the Heat of the Night. I can run them all in my head, every line, every scene, every music score.”

I told him I did the same. We tend not to talk a lot about the time before the end of the world, but occasionally it comes out. We can’t deny our past. We just can’t help it.

“What did you do before, you know, the end of the world?” I asked the Captain point blank.

“I was a high school physics teacher. Physics and engineering to be exact. What did you do?”

“I produced reality TV shows. The last one was for MTV. Did you ever see Love Bytes?”

He laughed. “That was you? All of my students watched that show. Geeks and romance. A lot of them wanted to be on the show.”

The sky gradually started to turn dark. In the distance we could see lightning strike and the silhouettes of other airships.

I hugged my child and put a blanket around his shoulders. Aaron put his head on my lap and fell asleep. Captain Sandy sang softly a song that we both knew so long ago.

It seemed we’d been here for centuries, only the children aging and growing up.

As a rule we didn’t speak much of what we missed or how much. It was always there in the back of our minds. I missed skinny jeans and sweaters. I missed short tight dresses and yoga at the gym. I missed the music. I missed my friends and family. I missed my job. I even missed the orange trees in my back yard and the sound of the garbage truck at 6:45 am on Thursday mornings. I missed it all.

Captain Sandy turned suddenly and looked at me as if he could read my mind. “Don’t think of how things used to be. Don’t think of why we’re here.”

We both knew why we were here. Nobody wanted us. There was no place for us in Heaven but nobody in Hell wanted us either.

“You’ve got to admit,” the Captain continued, “we’re in a unique position. No matter how bad it looks, this is our world. I spent 18 years teaching kids to understand the building blocks of the universe. I thought I was contributing to the future of our young people so that they would make the world a better place.”

“Now it doesn’t matter,” I said in a rare show of depression over the events that brought us here.

“No. Now it matters more than ever. This is our world. Despite the shadows and ghouls, this is our world now, free and clear. We can still use the building blocks of science and art to make it the place we want it to be. Finally we can do it right.”

“You’re always such an optimist Captain Sandy but do you really believe that?”

“Of course I do. What other choice do I have?”

“You have a point,” I said, noticing the spark in his eyes.

He noticed that I’d noticed. “Look at this as the ultimate reality TV show.”

“If that is the case then who, Captain Sandy, gets the hot girl at the end?”

He smiled. “That depends on you.” Then he turned his face away from me to where I could only see the moon lit reflection of the scars that traced his jawline.

The crew of the airship came up on deck to view the stars and take in the night air. It was good to see them laugh and talk freely of the destination ahead. My son raised his sleepy head and laughed too. Maybe it wasn’t that bad after all. Maybe Captain Sandy would win the game and get the girl. I had a pretty good feeling he would.

~ End

Tangled Tales

This story was featured in the WPaD Anthology: Goin’ Extinct – Tales from the Edge of Oblivion. Available on Amazon B&N and with other fine online book sellers.  

goin-extinct-front-cover1

Available in paperback and electronic ebook versions on Amazon, Good Reads, Barnes and Noble and other fine online booksellers.

WPaD is the acronym for Writers, Poets and Deviants. We are a diverse group of writers who came together on the Internet to support and encourage each other.Our collaborative works are charity fundraisers, with a percentage of royalties being donated to Multiple Sclerosis in support of members of our group who live with MS.

Books by WPaD:

  • Nocturnal Desires: Erotic Tales for the Sensual Soul
  • Creepies: Twisted Tales From Beneath the Bed
  • Passion’s Prisms: Tales of Love and Romance
  • Dragons and Dreams: A Fantasy Anthology
  • Tinsel Tales: A Holiday Treasury
  • Silk She Is: Poetry of Daniel E. Tanzo
  • Goin’ Extinct: Tales From the Edge of Oblivion
  • Creepies 2: Things That Go Bump in the Closet
  • Strange Adventures in a Deviant Universe (Science Fiction)
  • WPaD Weird Tales
  • Creepies 3
  • Tinsel Tales 2
  • Goin’ Extinct Too: Apocalypse A Go-Go

WPaD books are available worldwide in paperback and ebook editions.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

 

Zombie Days

It is one thing to lose your keys but when body parts start to vanish life just sucks. That is what Melissa was thinking at the moment. Being a Zombie sucked big time.

When she was 14 she’d read The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant. Covenant had Leprosy. It was awful. His world was turned upside down and he more or less lost everything. In a weird twist he was transported into a fantasy world where he was whole, at least in body. It wasn’t an easy series to read and it wasn’t happy. It was just weird to Melissa then because she wasn’t a fantasy fan. Now she was a zombie, and not a fan of that either.

It would be nice to blink and be in a fantasy world. Better yet be back in her normal world with her normal job and her normal boyfriend. Unfortunately she was in some sort of fantasy nightmare that was real life. It didn’t make sense. She looked down and then picked a finger nail up off the ground. Crap, even professional nail glue wouldn’t keep them on.

Michael wasn’t her boyfriend back before the Zombie days. He was just a guy who was a friend she’d work with occasionally. Her real boyfriend was… she had to pause to think hard. Memories were fading. She thought of old film archives of disintegrating film. It was like that. Nate. The boyfriend was Nate. He was tall and funny and perfect. He was a brain surgeon. The irony didn’t escape Melissa on that one. Her stomach grumbled. Brains.

Nobody ever expects to go on a simple business trip and at the end of the day becoming a zombie. It was just a simple stop to see what had been caught under that car. They thought it was a tumbleweed. It was Zombies.

Men in Black, Area Z (top-secret Zombie internment camp), an escape, help from some unlikely friends and now they were in a remote cabin in the woods. They could wait it out. They were already dead. The dead can wait forever.

Given the choice she would have chosen to become a Vampire. Even a Werewolf would have been better. She liked dogs. She liked running in the woods. Even a Ghost would be good if you had to be dead. Anything was better than being a Zombie.

Sitting at an old roll top desk, Melissa penned a letter to a friend. She might decide to send it or maybe not. As she wrote her skin made skid marks on the paper in a pinkish gray line. If she squinted she could pretend it was fairy dust. At least she could still hold a pen and write in something that resembled her once beautiful handwriting.

She wrote of Michael, her companion and now Zombie lover.

“I know he is the one. I know it in my heart of hearts that no longer beats. I know it every time he moans and shuffles towards me. I know it when he tries to look presentable and human. He does it just for me. He makes me laugh so I won’t cry. He stuffs the fingers of my gloves where I no longer have my own fingers. He tells me I’m still beautiful.”

A sticky tear of something green trickled down her face. Maybe she’d pick some wild flowers and cheer up their space. She looked out the window at the sound of a truck. She could see two men inside, sitting in the front seat with crisp clean uniforms. They were from the Forest Service. She smiled. Finally lunch had arrived.

 

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

This post was first published here in June 2014.  For the beginning of the Michael and Melissa story read A Lunch Date With Zombies.

 

Rix forest

Vlad’s Vampire Diary: Cat Walk

Dear Diary,

With the advent of the pandemic I have had to be creative about my food sources. I must admit that I had become lazy due to the fact that I did not need to be overly resourceful.

Only months ago I could go out in the night and find people everywhere. Now the streets are empty. No long am I allowed to sit at a bar shoulder to shoulder with potential blood donors.

As with everyone else in my neighborhood I have taken to the ritual of the morning walk before the summer heat puts us all into comas. My cats follow me when it is cool, for when it is cool their paws do not burn on what is called Ass Fault. That is something that is somewhat confusing, the dark roads in a climate that turns so hot in the summer months. I would like it if the roads were perhaps a pale blue or maybe a dove gray with just a hint of silver sparkles. I do not know why it was the fault of the ass or whatever fool was building the road or why it is called such a slightly vulgar name.

Back when I was the King of Vampires, before I was locked in a crypt for three hundred years, only to be liberated a few years ago, most roads were dirt, or made of natural stones. Animals need not worry about the pads of their feet being seared off when they needed to travel. But I digress. I am not an expert in road construction and I fear I never shall be. According to my Vampire lover Gillian, the people who are supposed to build and maintain the public roads are also not experts in road construction but that is a story for another time. Ass Fault.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

Without much for dinner last night I again went walking in the small hours of the morning. My two cats followed along as the air was still cool as yet not seared by the morning sun. My stomach was growling and my head growing light. I had to find food without being too obvious.

Two women stood talking, one on the sidewalk, the other on the porch of her house. I smiled and waved politely from the other side of the street. I could hear them talking, for I am a Vampire and I can hear quiet conversations from a long distance.

“He has been walking with his cats almost every single day. They’re so cute.”

“Oh my he is hot.”

“Blazing hot.”

I thought that was odd since it was still quite cool outside. I did not feel hot. I did not feel cute either. Cats are cute. Babies are cute. From what I understand, otters are cute. I am a grown man. I do not understand this word “cute”.

As I walked along I came across a younger man attempting to remove large pieces of lumber from the back end of his truck.

“Do you need help?” I called to him from across the street.

“Oh wow, that would be great,” he said. “I don’t have a mask on, but I can get one out of the house.”

“You are fine,” I said. “We will not stand close together.”

I could see that he noticed the muscles on my arms. Yes, I would be of help and not a problem.  The two cats sat under a tree in his front yard and started to groom themselves.

A task that would have taken the man hours alone only took a few minutes with my help. Vampires are always good for such work as we are both strong and fast. When we were finished a woman came out into the yard. She had a cast on her arm which I assumed was broken. Now I know why the man had no help.

“Thank you so much for helping,” she said. “Would you like to join us for breakfast?”

And so I did.

They were quite delicious.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

My Vampire love Gillian and I, in a successful plan to stay out of the heat did was is called binge watching Netflix. We watched many shows in which people attempt to find killers in an entertaining and emotional filled manner filled with conflicts and unimaginable twists. These towns in which these stories take place are incredibly dangerous places. We also saw a show in which people try not to fall into lava.

These are things I could not have imagined in a million years, much less my 676 years.

The cats were sleeping, curled up together in a chair. I leaned towards Gillian and kissed her neck.

“Let us stop binge watching murderers and go upstairs. I wish to binge on you my love.”

Gillian laughed with the voice of an angel, then took me upstairs where she was definitely not an angel.

Sometime staying at home and indoors is not a bad thing. Not at all.

~ Vlad

 

 

Kissed by a Vampire

Kissed by a Vampire

This has been the 6oth installment of Vlad’s Vampire Diary. To read all of the posts and to start from the beginning of Vlad’s story CLICK HERE.

 

 

 

 

 

Masks

“Did you ever go to Ancient Egypt?”

“No, I didn’t. I guess I should have. The generals going to Britain requested that I go there with them as a form of protection or some sort of nonsense. I didn’t want to go. Not really. Then I started thinking that it was north of Rome, so maybe, just maybe I’d get some information about where I’d come from, you know, originally as a toddler.”

“Do you remember your parents?”

“Not really. I remember I was at a place that was home, there were a lot of trees and people who looked like me, then I remember I was someplace else. You’ve asked me all of this before. I know it seems extremely interesting but I’d like to talk about something else now.” He put his hand on Val’s shoulder. “How are you holding up these days? I see you’ve shaved off your beard. Did you do that on your own volition or did a woman put you up to it?”

Val smiled. “It was my idea. I don’t have a woman in my life right now.”

Tellias patted my brother’s knee as he stood up, “Oh you will, you will. You’ve got a good face. Women like good faces.”

The old Vampire, who looked like a nineteen year old kid, stretched his arms from side to side then, looked over at me. “Don’t you think your brother is handsome without the beard?”

“Indeed I do,” I said.

“Indeed he does look handsome as ever,” said Eleora as she danced into the room carrying a basket full of what looked like colorful scraps of fabric. “And now we shall cover you up. Completely up.”

“Completely,” said Tellias.

He took the basked from Eleora, then danced her around the room. “My love, forever. You are why I’m glad I did not go to ancient Egypt and decided to go with the Romans north. When I saw you dancing on the edge of the cliff with the sound of the waves in the background I knew.”

“You knew,” said the brown haired young women who was really over two thousand years old. “I knew. Now we all know.”

“Yes we do,” said Tellias.

“Now, we shall cover up,” she said grabbing a daisy patterned face mask out of her basket. “I made these yesterday.”

“She made them,” said Tellias.

“Two dozen,” said Eleora.

“Yes, two whole dozen. Twenty four,” said Tellias.

“Twenty four,” said Eleora as she hooked it over Val’s ears. “Now you look quite dashing Valentine. Just be careful not to hook your fangs in it.”

“I’ll do my best,” said Val. “Thanks. This is great.”

“You look good in daisies,” said Tellias. “Here Juliette, take the one with roses on it. Pink roses. It suits your hazel eyes.”

We spend the rest of the afternoon, my brother Val, the elders, and I, over iced tumblers of blood with a squeeze of lime and fresh rosemary sprigs. It was over 100°F but we remained cool and happy to be in each other’s company.

In these times of uncertainty make sure you check in on your elders, and those who might need extra help. Even if you can’t see them in person please make that call, or call their caretakers. Just a few moments of your time can make the world of difference to someone isolated or out of touch.

Be aware of your actions, and that even though you might be alright, there are those who are fragile and by wearing a mask you can help prevent their memories and stories from being lost forever.

  • Wear a mask
  • Wash your hands
  • Call those you love and check in on them
  • Be cool, even in the heat and again, wear your mask.
  • Help others
  • Talk to your kids
  • Be concerned
  • Take this seriously. We’re not all so lucky to be Vampires. Take it seriously.

 

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman