The Clue of the Dancing Puppet

The first lesson of my online writing course was posted today. I achieved a perfect score on the pretest, so I'm off to a good start. Today's lesson was basically reading about the fundamentals of writing articles and how story ideas are everywhere. Truth or cliché? I landed on the side of truth.

The instructor recommended that we write a brief paragraph introducing ourselves to our fellow cyber classmates and as I was thinking about what to write - how do you sum up who you are in a few brief sentences? - I realized that every descriptor I was going to include had stories behind it: wife, stepmom, empty nester, reader, traveler, dog walker, convertible rider, home renovator ... Not that every story is or should be publishable, but what a broad range of topics to draw from.

Another instructor recommendation was to keep a journal where we can write down ideas as they come to us. The good student in me was pleased that I already have one. (This is where The Clue of the Dancing Puppet comes in, in case you were wondering when I was going to reference this post's title.)

My journal was a gift from my brother and fellow bibliophile. It comes from www.bookjournals.com and is a lovely reminder of my favorite set of books from my childhood, even though I don't remember this particular book. I read and re-read my set of Nancy Drews over and over again. I read them while partaking of my typical after-school snack of chocolate milk and graham crackers, in the bathtub, in the car, in the doctor's waiting room. I remember tucking a Nancy Drew inside my Bible and reading it once during church. I never would dared to have tried that with my parents present, but Grandma was staying with us and had taken us to church. I thought I was so slick, but she was on to me.

I thought Nancy was smart, George was courageous and Bess was a bit ditzy. And I couldn't imagine tooling around my neighborhood in a convertible with a boy named Ned or having a housekeeper. (I didn't marry a boy named Ned, have never and will probably never have a housekeeper, but the convertible? Got that.)

My set of Nancy Drews came from my father's business partner's daughter who was at least a good decade older than I was. It was a pretty complete set at the time, but I did add new books when they came out until I aged past Nancy Drew. I still have my set somewhere in the basement or the attic. I should dig them out and see if I can find the clue left by the dancing puppet. Or maybe the dancing puppet is the clue.

Back to the idea journal. Last year about this time I was on one of my "I'm going to write" streaks and starting writing ideas in the journal, which also contained to-do lists and shopping lists. I think I was trying to generate topics for blog posts. And now, thanks to my online class, the idea journal is back out in the daylight and ready to be filled with the plethora of ideas that I know are rambling around somewhere in my subconscious and in my day-to-day life.

Just beware. This blog is called Harriet's Notebook, so I may put on my Harriet glasses and write about you in my idea journal. But only good ideas. Promise.