Elaine Ambrose

Bestselling Author, Ventriloquist, & Humorist

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My Scary Story

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creepy hallway

The Modern Hotel in Boise sponsored a micro-fiction writing contest inviting scary, hotel-based stories. The rules were to keep the word count below 390, include the image of a hotel hallway, and use this first line: “There had been an argument down the hall.” Here is my entry.

Travel Companion

There had been an argument down the hall. The commotion woke me from a restless sleep, and I mumbled with irritation. Traveling alone on business is exhausting, and I always request a hotel room on a quiet floor away from elevators and rowdy travelers, but Room 782 did not comply with my expectations.

I heard men’s voices, loud and vicious, and a heavy thump that indicated a man was thrown against the wall outside my room. Someone rattled the handle on my door, as if trying to come inside to escape the violence. I gasped for air. A deep voice snarled:

“Where’s my money?”

“I don’t know. I swear. Stop hitting me.”

Wide awake, my mental checklist went on alert: I had locked the door, secured the chain, and my cell phone was on the nightstand. Through the darkness I could see the fuzzy numbers on the clock: 2:00 am. Where were my eyeglasses? I didn’t remember.

The fight ended and I heard them move down the hall, enter another room, and slam the door. I reached for the phone to call the front desk and report the disturbance.

Suddenly I froze. Someone was in my bed.

I felt the sensation of another body lying next to me, but not touching me. I heard the measured, deep breathing and felt a slight movement, an adjustment of heavy weight.

Too terrified to scream or look, I tried to force my hand to keep moving toward the phone but I was paralyzed with fear. Sweat pooled on the back of my neck, and I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came out.

Then he spoke.

“Just be quiet. I won’t hurt you.”

I kept my eyes closed but attempted to move away. I finally managed a sick scream.

He covered my mouth with huge dirty hands that smelled of sausages and onions. I bit a thumb and he yelped.

“Stupid woman,” he growled. “Do you realize how many times I have saved your life?”

“What?”

“You travel alone all the time and I’m always there to protect you. You don’t realize that I’m in bed with you in every room you have ever used.”

Panting for breath, I jumped up and turned on the lamp.

The room was empty. There was an indentation in the bed.

 

©ElaineAmbrose

Teens Shouldn’t Trick-or-Treat

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halloween ugly doll

Get your ugly face off my doorstep. I promise not to come to your house and grab your goodies; unless you have M&Ms with peanuts. Then we can barter. But for now, go away because it’s not fun anymore. If you’re over 12 and don’t have special needs, this crusty curmudgeon is saying “Get off my lawn!”

This Halloween, I choose not to be assaulted by marauding packs of greedy teenagers who terrorize the neighborhood and think I owe them free candy to stuff into their dirty pillowcases. Why do they assume it’s their right to seize a holiday meant for cute little children dressed as pirates, ghosts, and witches? Here’s my trick for the teenage treaters: no candy for you.

The last few years have changed my participation in the holiday. My children are grown and have their own kids. I enjoy seeing their cute costumes, but I no longer welcome masked strangers to my home. The festivities were ruined when drivers from outside the area brought cars full of real monsters who swarmed through the neighborhood, repeatedly rang doorbells, grabbed all the treats, complained if the candy bars were too small, and smashed the jack-o-lanterns on their way out. I think if you can drive a vehicle, you’re too old to trick-or-treat.

The gangs of gangling candy-grabbers didn’t even wear costumes, but maybe that was a good thing. The costumes I’ve seen in the stores resemble miniature pole-dance outfits for toddler sluts or bloody murder victims so frightening they cause me to experience a psychotic episode. The party store managers don’t approve of my actions when I curl into a fetal position on the floor and scream, “Make it go away!”

adam emily halloween 1982

Halloween used to be fun. When my kids were pre-school age, they chose Halloween costumes from clothes we already owned. My son wore his calico shirt and vest with his dad’s cowboy hat. A moustache painted with an eyebrow pencil completed his outfit. My daughter wore my old dance dress with her own leggings. Both were excited as we walked around the neighborhood and collected treats from families we knew.

We returned home to answer the door, marvel at the cute homemade outfits, and give treats to children from the surrounding area. I allowed my kids a few pieces and sent them to bed. After they were asleep, I inspected their treasures and removed all the M&M Peanut candies for myself. I only was concerned about too much sugar rotting their teeth. Years later they told me they knew about my theft, but didn’t care. Obviously, I raised outstanding children

One year, I made the mistake of reading how to make homemade costumes. This was before the soul-crushing examples on Pinterest. I stayed up all night sewing a Holly Hobby outfit, complete with pinafore and bonnet. This labor of love was worn once, so I learned to be wiser with future costumes and encouraged them to express their imagination by creating their own costumes from whatever they owned. We also stopped the commercialized door-to-door begging when the children were around eight years old. Instead of prowling the streets for stale candy leftover from previous holidays, I purchased some candy for them, organized a party at home, and they were happy.

elaine luciya halloween 2009

It’s fun to see little ones all dressed up, and I endorse creative play that sparks imagination. This Halloween, we’ll take photos of the grandkids and give them cards and small gifts. The evening will end at home with the lights out and the doors locked. Think of all the teeth we’ll save.

 

(Featured on The Huffington Post 50 on Oct. 31, 2015)

 

Good Advice for Bad Reviews

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bad book review

If I’m feeling a bit too confident and need an instant dose of humility, I read some bad reviews about my latest book Midlife Cabernet. This self-inflicted pain is sure to temporarily destroy my positive attitude and slaughter the pretentious belief that I am a writer. To prevent myself from trading my computer for a clown costume and running away to join the circus, I’ve discovered a convenient technique to overcome the humiliation: Spy on the reviewers.

My book has almost 700 reviews on Amazon.com and Goodreads, and 78% of them are positive. But, I can’t resist peeking at the negative comments. For example, a few months ago Donna gave the book a 1-Star rating out of 5 stars. Here is her review:

“Stunk”

I couldn’t glean any helpful suggestions from this nasty comment, nor did I determine how to please Donna. I investigated her other reviews and noticed she had written only eight comments and had given three 1-star ratings. I decided that Donna is too high-maintenance and doesn’t deserve my sparkling humor.

McNay, a prolific reviewer, also gave the book a 1-star rating and wrote that she returned it for credit because she couldn’t finish reading it. I inspected her biography and noted that she gave 5-star ratings to a digital meat thermometer and a cuticle clipper she had ordered from Amazon.com. I can’t compete with those products.

Ronald Seiberton wrote a terse comment about the book:

“Not that funny”

I discovered that he had written a grand total of three reviews and had given five stars to a book about the Dalai Lama. I have to wonder why he even purchased a copy of Midlife Cabernet.

A reviewer named Cocoa’s Mama gave the book a 2-star rating and wrote, “This book did have it’s humorous moments, but all the five star reviews have me baffled. This book was not at all well written.” I smugly noticed that her review wasn’t well-written either and contained at least three grammatical errors. But, she did give a 5-star review to a reversible puffy vest for dogs.

The reviews on Goodreads were also humbling. Maureen gave the book 1-star rating and wrote:

“I couldn’t force myself to finish this book. It is full of insipid one-liners which are fine for 10 minutes.”

Maureen, please admit I amused you for ten minutes. That’s all I need. I also noted that Maureen gave a 3-star rating to George Orwell’s 1984. So, I’ve got that going for me.

Rhonda LeRay gave the book a 1-star rating, but I noticed she read and liked a book titled, 101 Things to Do with Popcorn. I don’t want Rhonda to like my book.

I began to whimper as I read through more bad reviews. Sheri Slomnick gave it two stars and wrote that she was in her 30s and didn’t find the book as funny as advertised. Sheri, sweetheart, the subtitle is “Life, Love, & Laughter after 50.” Read it again in 20 years and write a better comment.

Finally, a man named Guy gave the book another 1-star ranking. His profile notes that he is a corporate director, merchant banker, and strategic advisor. Perhaps a book titled Midlife Cabernetshouldn’t be included on his must-read list.

I don’t think reviewers realize how devastating a 1-star rating can hurt sales (and feelings.) Was it really that bad? Have they ever written anything beyond a few lines of criticism? There’s only one action to do after wallowing through the condemning, vicious comments. Meekly return to the 5-star reviews and find reasons to live. I linger on this one:

“This book was one of the most funny, endearing books I’ve read.”

The quote is from my friend, but that doesn’t matter. I believe in my heart that she is correct.

 

 

Melodies, Memories, and Writing to Music

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Albert_Anker_-_Schreibender_Knabe_mit_Schwesterchen

This weekend at a retreat, I’m conducting a workshop that invites participants to listen to various songs and then spontaneously write using the music as the only prompt. This muse always inspires creative results in a range of emotions from melancholy to stand-up-and-holler joyful.

I’ve used this technique to teach adults and school children. In my collection of vintage books, I have a copy of a children’s book from 1886 titled Please Tell Me A Tale. One story, “Under the Maypole”, has the following lines:

This Mayday morning they will plant the Maypole on the green,

And hang it round with cowslip wreaths and blue bells set between;

With starry thorn, with knotted fern, with chestnut blossoms tall,

And Phil, the bailiff’s son, will bring red roses from the Hall.”

Can’t you just imagine little Phil proudly bringing the roses? The book doesn’t have any illustrations, but children still love to listen to the lyrical stories and imagine the scenes.

I use this example in my writing class for local fourth grade students. Then I follow with an excerpt from a current bestselling children’s book, Captain Underpants and the Perilous Plot of Professor Poopypants. In this particular version, the children rearrange letters on a sign to read:

 Please Don’t Fart in a Diaper.”

Laughter ensues, but it causes me to doubt the evolution of children’s literature over the last 125 years.

To inspire the students to write, I play a variety of musical selections. We begin with “No Blue Thing” by Ray Lunch. I instruct the children to close their eyes, listen to the music, and then write anything that the music inspires. The responses always are delightful.

“I’m running through the tall grass through a cloud of butterflies,” is a typical comment.

Then I play “Circle of Life” from the Lion King Soundtrack. Their expressions change as their imaginations play with the music. We then discuss how the music prompted images and thoughts. They are instructed to write what they envision.

For the remainder of the class, I play a variety of other songs, but I always end with the same two selections. “Adagio for Strings” by Samual Barber typically elicits strong emotions, even among the teachers. Once at Garfield Elementary, after the song a shy, little boy in the back of the room timidly raised his hand. “I see blue tears flowing down my wall,” he said. “Write about that,” was my response. He seemed pleased.

The session ends with the “Hallelujah Chorus” from Handel’s Messiah. Often, most of the students will sit taller and smile wider as they listen with their eyes closed. The song prompts comments such as, “I fought the dragon, and I won!”

The class can be used for early grades, too. Even if children can’t yet write, they can talk. Many tell how the song helped them to remember happy or sad times. I’ve discovered that even though these children have less than 10 years of life, they have stories. Their responses are unfiltered and honest.

My classes lasts an hour, and I enjoy volunteering my time with the students. It’s my goal that they will use quality music (with an emphasis on quality) to inspire the muse within them. I want to challenge young people to temporarily laugh about Professor Poopypants but to wonder and write about characters as rich and provocative as Phil, the bailiff’s son. No batteries required.

 

Once Upon a Time: The Stories that Surround Us

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elaine 2013 (117)

 

Recently I was playing with a gaggle of giggling granddaughters. We were telling stories, and they squealed with delight at each silly suggestion in our creative plot as “Once upon a time….” encouraged them to imagine without restriction.

“And then the princess turned into a beautiful butterfly.”

“She waved her magic wand and poof! There was a purple horse with wings!”

“The little girl fell down a long tunnel and landed in a big meadow. She could understand what the animals were saying.”

Of course, the pretend princesses always survived their adventures and the endings always were happy, except for the conclusion in the Fable of the Farting Princess, but by then it was time to take a break. Such is storytelling with children.

Every day, we are surrounded by potential stories. Those of us who can still remember the 1960s can’t forget the lyrics of Simon and Garfunkel’s song “America” as the couple turns ordinary situations into imaginary stories:

“Laughing on the bus, playing games with the faces.
She said the man in the gabardine suit was a spy.
I said, “Be careful his bowtie is really a camera.”

If you need inspiration to write, you should go sit in the park. Observe a happy family playing and laughing, and then allow your imagination to wander. Who is that dark stranger slowly driving around the park? Why is the woman yelling into her cell phone? Did you see the lonely custodian laughing as he went down the slide? Is the little boy really talking to a squirrel?

You can find story ideas while waiting at stop lights. The obnoxious guys in the noisy car next to you are certain to be smuggling something illegal. The old woman ahead of you must be on her way to her best friend’s funeral. That’s why she’s driving so slowly. Her friend’s name is Erma, and they used to process jars of pickles together in Erma’s farmhouse kitchen. The old woman craves a fresh tomato.

I also use newspaper headlines to create short stories. The Idahoan Who Speaks for U.S. Sheep Industry.” So, what do the sheep have her say? Do they have a meeting in the pasture and discuss issues over bowls of fresh grass and pitchers of water from the canal? N.Y. Pet Cemeteries Told to Stop Taking in Humans. Will Fifi really care? The old dog’s been dead for 20 years. And, what if those really aren’t Fifi’s ashes?

Every day presents an adventure waiting to be told. The real ending can’t be controlled, but with enough creativity and imagination, writers can add some festive, mysterious, tragic, inspirational, and amazing elements to make the journey less mundane. After all, it’s what we do. We are storytellers.

 

(Featured on NanaHood.com 10/1/2015)

Need a Cheap Laugh?

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drinking dead women writers cover

The world can be a horrible, nasty, rotten place. You can get away from it all and have some giggles with this e-book on sale for only $.99. Drinking with Dead Women Writers E-Book by fearless authors Elaine Ambrose and AK Turner is on sale on Amazon.com for one week beginning October 2. The original price was $2.99, so act fast because the deal ends next Friday. The book received three awards from the Idaho Book Awards: Top Author, Fiction, and Cover Design.

Follow this link to buy the e-book and share laughter and libations with literary ladies. The authors make you believe they shared drinks and stories with 16 authors, including  Dorothy Parker, Erma Bombeck, Louisa May Alcott, and Emily Dickinson. Discover fascinating facts, such as Jane Austen’s original title for Sense and Sensibility was Elinor and Marianne. The book was reviewed as “a fantastical romp through literature and drink.” Buy it now. Laugh soon. Erma Bombeck would approve.

http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B007VTRU06/ref=series_rw_dp_sw