Scene 110 Shot A1


I begin to suspect that I will not be making Monday updates as planned. I’m thinking Tuesdays at this point, while extending the caveat that any time-guarantee is not yet in place. Quantity has so far been consistent, but only because I’m using one day a week to say I have nothing to say except that I’ll say more on a later day in the week.

In frequently repeated news, I’ll have something up at some point in the near future, whether that’s tomorrow or the next day. Or the two next after it. We’re not picky here at TheStoryFolder.


This evening — my last evening here in Montana for awhile — my family and I ended up at the splash park, where most of sat in lawn chairs and watched my sister-in-law doggedly follow my niece back and forth between the water fountains and the jungle gym. During dinner we were mildly attacked by a hornet, who didn’t sting anyone but wouldn’t leave my Aunt alone for the better part of fifteen minutes. Half an hour later, after multiple assassination attempts, my brother finally stunned it between a pizza box and his hat. I kid you not, this is how the rest of us responded:


Confession: I am kidding about an announcer in the background describing our genetic heritage. However, the enthusiastic golf claps were real.

I’ve cried a couple of times tonight* (and goodness knows I’ll cry again tomorrow as I’m pulling away from my parent’s house at 5:30 in the morning), and today’s update is just a quick rundown on my schedule. There will be no updates next week as I’m giving myself a break while I move 1500+ miles cross country, and when I return on the 11th it will be to a single post per week. Right now the plan is to try on Monday for size, but the day is subject to change. Also, since I’m dropping down to weekly updates, I hope to make most — if not quite all — of them more significant in length and content. I.E. short stories, poems, serials updated weekly, longer blog posts, etc.

Of course, that may also change. At this point, the only thing I guarantee is the weekly update. When or what is up in the air, but the bare minimum of how often isn’t.

*and someday I’ll explain in full detail the creepy way my bother and sister-in-arms (a woman who has become not only family, but one of my dearest friends) conveyed goodbye as I drove away from their house on movie nights. But that’s a story for another time.

It made such sounds from A to Z…but most of all it BUMPED



“The Bump Under the Bed” has officially made it onto my Amazon page, where you can buy it for $10.99. Also, after downloading a plugin for this website that helps to compress images and clear up some space in my media file storage, I tried to upload my marketing video again only to discover that I have poor reading comprehension. The site won’t allow me to upload any files larger than a certain size, so it doesn’t matter how much space I clear out of my media storage. Three minutes and sixteen seconds is simply too long. However, if you’re just dying to watch me make faces while I read, you can go here:

Amazon page for "The Bump Under the Bed" can be found here: that links properly. If you're interested in my amazon author page (which has all three of my available products for sale in one handy place – oh boy!), you can go

Posted by The Storyfolder on Thursday, August 24, 2017


Oh my goodness, I had no idea I could actually link this video right onto my page. Apparently I’ve accidentally discovered a method for sharing my videos on my website without eating too much space. In related news, that is a really goofy screen capture my video decided to use as my cover image.

Finally, if you’re either my brother, sister, or parents that automatically qualifies your family unit for one free copy of “The Bump Under the Bed,” though I’m having difficulty figuring out how to get it to you. My Createspace account wants to send it to the address here in Montana, but it won’t make it before I move, unless I spend exorbitant amounts of money to expedite the shipping. If you are my brother*, sister, or parents, you know we don’t spend exorbitant amounts of money for convenience’s sake. Back to the drawing board.

*Insignificant note here: on my fifth editing read-through before posting, I finally noticed that I’d written “bother, sister, or parents” (italics added for emphasis), which is actually not a bad interpretation of that particular family role.

Flying Officer Irv Peterson Bites the Big One

My apologies for the radio silence. Excuses go like this: vacation. Cold virus.

I’m feeling much better and, as such, meant to have a decent post for today. Unfortunately, I spent most of the morning fumigating my house of germs and a large portion of the afternoon watching YouTube videos while supposedly working on my blog content for today, and as you can imagine that helped my work ethic enormously. As I did not manage to finish (and I’ve got ten minutes left before the librarian chases me from the premises), have this instead:


Real update on Tuesday.

Mama Toot Toot

I know seven pregnant ladies right now. A month ago it was eight, a week and a half back it nearly dropped down to six only to sneak up again to seven when I wasn’t looking, and by the end of summer the smoke should clear, leaving a rather paltry four. I’m thirty now, which has me counting pregnant ladies like a vulture leering across the desert at a barren horizon. Fortunately, my siblings have had the decency to procreate, and I just added a godson to the small band of nephews and nieces that think I’m a Rockstar. We all got together this past week and weekend to celebrate the latest birth and baptism, so I thought I might take a break from my usual inanity to pull out some more inanity: the tiresome Aunt routine. Basically, my siblings have the cutest kids in the world and I want to boast about them.

This is not entirely bias speaking (though, admittedly, “in the world” is a little hyperbolic). They’re all Gerber-quality darling, as most of them were chubby babies and every single one is still smiley with big eyes. Even better, they’re all absolute stinkers.

For example, the oldest, a four-year-old, has put me in jail at least two times a day since I’ve come, though it’s not a bad gig – I lay on the couch while he chops me up with a fake knife. Apparently, I pushed someone off a building and killed them, so I definitely had it coming. Still, when I later had the audacity to offer to read him his stories for quiet time, he quickly corrected me: “People who go to jail don’t GET to put people down for quiet time!” Grandma did it instead.

At two year’s old, my brother’s daughter is just starting to put sentences together. She refers to herself in the third person, and rumor has it that the other day at breakfast she farted and then declared, “Mama toot toot!” Mama was not in the room at the time, but it’s still a good indication that my niece is already learning how to pass the buck.

The next one in the lineup is nearly two herself, and my sister’s only daughter. She’s got one word in her repertoire: no. And by “no,” I mean: “NO!” Add a headshake and couple that with either a mad-dog expression or a knowing grin, and that’s my second niece in one perfect visual.

(Bonus story: from all appearances, she and her cousin are getting along like gangbusters. This morning I tried to go the bathroom, only to find the door closed. I knocked, it popped open, and two girls stood grinning at me from inside, both holding measuring cups. The oldest – her hand still on the doorknob – explained in simple terms as the door slowly closed once more: “Bye bye.”

I took the long walk down to the basement bathroom.)

And finally, the nine-day-old had the good grace to quiet for me in church. He’s a pretty calm baby and generally easy to soothe, but he protested his baptism with the rage of the old Adam drowning – or perhaps he was just trying to help renounce the devil and all his ways. Either way, I had the good timing to be holding him when he finally angered himself into a coma. I’m his godmother, so as far as I’m concerned the two of us already have an understanding worked out that he’s supposed to make me look good.

Someday I’d like to boast about my own batch of stinkers, but for now these will do quite well. Which is fortunate, as I have a dating policy that looks a little something like this:

So really: until the day comes in which I don’t call the guards over, they will do quite nicely indeed.