A New Writing Adventure

I have been inspired to resurect my writing blog. Yah, "What is this you are doing here Lanny?" But my writing blog is for longer things. I know, you didn't think I had longer in me did you? It was all inspired by Sparky participating in Orient Express Adventure over at Muse-swings. Here is a little taste to lure you over to Stories From Dirt And Lanny.

To Anna VanderMoere
Beveren, Belgium
From Elisabeth VanderMoere
Liege, Belgium, August 14, 1870

Dear Sister,
I am so sorry that you have not had a letter from me as it has been so long. How are all the sweet babies and how is dear Henry? I miss you all so much.

I am well, very well indeed. I hope you did not think me dead, for I am alive, very much alive.

You may notice that this letter is not posted from the Americas as you perhaps were expecting. Let me tell you how it has come to be that I never left the shores of France.

I was on the dock that day, I felt so alone after you had to leave me there. Please don’t upset yourself over having to leave me there all alone, your babies needed you far more than I did. It may very well have been the best thing that you left me to wait until they let steerage passengers on, the very best thing.

But I confess I did not wait like the good girl you asked me to be. And yes dear sister I nearly ruined my life but I do believe that you will be please at how it has all turned out.

I became bored and stashed my few things under a crate, first I had grabbed out my smallest sketch pad and I began to wander the docks. Please don’t worry about my things they are fine, I fetched them up later.

I am not sure how I managed it but I ended up standing right at the end of the passenger gangway of a ship that had just docked from America. I stood there, right at the throat of the grand descent as everyone flowed from off the ship. I was hurriedly scratching images of faces as they came down the gangway, so many expressions.

I must say I am so thankful to Flora to have given me her grey stripe, I must have looked so business like because a man came down and took notice of me. He had the biggest grin on his face and walking like a man who could never be happier or more eager. When he spotted me, he asked me if I was some name or other, grabbed me by the elbow, told me to start writing and "wasn’t it good that I had my notepad out already," he says.

Oh dear Sister, you will never believe my fate, for that is what it is, true Providence. And when I finish telling you all of it, I believe you will see it as so, with me.



There is your little taste. I hope you grab a cup of tea and come on over. I am not a professional writer but I do have my tough skin on and would love your very candid criticism and corrections to my work. I have just started and know nothing about anything involved in these stories here. I know, the biggest offense of a writer, eh?