Yes, it is I, the legendary NymphWriter! A legend in my own mind that is. I am a Mother, a teacher, & a writer.I'm a mother first and foremost. My son is the most important person in my life and the greatest thing I've ever done. He's an adult and makes me proud every day.I'm a teacher. This is my profession & my job title. I can teach elementary up to 8th grade, or English from middle school up to high school. I have my BA & my MA so I'm a bit educated. But even with all this education, I still make some silly mistakes in my writing. As I tell my kids, it just proves I'm still human.I'm a writer. I've been writing off and on since I was a teenager. It took the encouragement of a dear friend to find the courage to share my stories. I honestly never thought I was any good or that anyone would like my writing, except my friends. I'm pleased that I was so wrong about this.I have often said I write what I would like to read. I work hard to produce quality writing pieces, which is why there are so often gaps with my posting. I'd rather take my time and post a quality piece of writing than rush and post a piece of crap. I feel that those who are taking their time to read my work, deserve my very best.I also try to not be a "one-trick pony". By this I mean, I try to not have predictable stories, though I will admit, sometimes I don't always succeed. I have been told I like my happy endings, and all I can say is, "What girl doesn't?"
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Yoga mistress
Sure. I'm sure he'd be rather interesting to chat with.
PoisonIron MaidenMotley CrueJourneyThe Bee Gees
Well... we knew the job was dangerous when we took it. <img src="/images/emoticons/Lfunny.gif" alt="Lfunny">
Amigo Brothers by Piri Thomas
peanut butter
bites - mites
The AccusedJodie Foster
So long as my few stories survive... I'll be fine. However, backing them up now might not be a bad idea. <img src="/images/emoticons/eusa_doh.gif" alt="d'oh!"> If you go to My Stories on the drop-down menu, you can download all your stories in a ZIP file. Just click this wee dooda Thank you.
So long as my few stories survive... I'll be fine. However, backing them up now might not be a bad idea. <img src="/images/emoticons/eusa_doh.gif" alt="d'oh!">
I remember the day the call came in, June 21, 2013, two days after my fourth anniversary and just over three years from my last full-time work day. My husband had left the day before and was in New Mexico driving an eighteen-wheeler so we could make ends meet. I was sitting in my living room wearing my pajamas, chatting with him on the phone and having coffee. An email came in telling me that...
Added 31 Oct 2016 | Category Musings | Votes 2 | Avg Score 4 | Views 597 | 1 Comment
I love rainy days. I find them romantic. How many romantic films and romantic comedies have a scene where the couple kisses or professes their love in the rain? Even my own husband proposed to me in the rain because I told him I thought kissing in the rain was romantic. Teaching elementary school almost made me hate rainy days. The kids are trapped inside all day, and often the teachers...
Added 02 Feb 2015 | Category Musings | Votes 6 | Avg Score 5 | Views 639 | 6 Comments
I’m an under-appreciated, underpaid professional. I am belittled for working my chosen profession, told I whine too much and I should be grateful for all I have. After all, I live in America, I have a job, a place to live, a car, food in my refrigerator, clothes on my back, and yet, I’m not grateful. Why the hell should I be grateful? I am a teacher in a metropolitan district, and I’m...
Added 18 Jan 2015 | Category Musings | Votes 16 | Avg Score 4.75 | Views 1,025 | 13 Comments
She stood outside the funeral home and told herself this was a mistake. She had been having this dialogue with herself since the day she saw the obituary in the paper. It’s not like she read those on a regular basis, in fact, she avoided this section of the paper like the plague because she found it morbid and creepy, but she was reading an article that had “continued on page” with her...
Added 21 Oct 2014 | Category General | Votes 11 | Avg Score 4.91 | Views 840 | 9 Comments
It’s two in the morning A nightmare in my head. I reach across for comfort And find a dent in our bed. Where are you tonight? Why can’t I hold your hand? Are you in another town, city, Another state, or a foreign land? How long must I wait Until you are near? Another day, a week, Will it be a month, or a year? How long will you stay? How much time to I get to enjoy you? A few days, a...
Added 19 Oct 2014 | Category Poetry | Votes 13 | Avg Score 4.85 | Views 859 | 11 Comments
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