• Annie Wood

Fine & Dandy!

Updated: Feb 27, 2019

#blog #bookexcerpt #summerreads #amwriting #art #artblog #author

In The Middle. Part of the SUGAR series. Art created using my type 1 diabetic hub's blood sugar test strips.

My rom com novel, Dandy Day (Speaking Volumes publishing) will be out at the end of this month. It's the first of three of my books that will come out this year!

Here's a short excerpt.


I stood there. In the middle of a field, with my arms outstretched. It started with Robert Downey Jr, then Johnny Depp, quickly followed by Colin Farrell, Bradley Cooper and Hugh Jackman, they all came raining down from the sky, shaped like raindrops, I knew I could catch them all, save them and by doing so, save myself. Except, as I reached out, prepared to gather the man droplets into my arms, something went horribly wrong. They were heavier than I expected, and made of glass. Alarmed, I stepped back and watched them crash to the ground. Bradley Hugh, Colin, all of them shattered into a million pieces right before my very eyes. All because I wasn’t able to hold on. I think about crying, but instead...

I wake up.

My alarm clock is playing the same tune It always plays, I Know Something About Love. I’m a fan of irony. My raining men recurring dream doesn’t bother me much anymore. I’m used to it. Although, there’s always a moment, when I’m watching them slip through my fingers, where I’m deeply saddened. Saddened because I know it’s inevitable.

The crash,

the shatter,

the end.

Such is life, I suppose. I grab my breakfast, which consists of one large Yoo-Hoo, and put on my roller skates. It’s another sunny day on the Venice boardwalk and I’m ready to skate on over to my head- shrinking visit. Why am I getting my head shrunk? Because, I live in L.A. it’s what we do here. Besides, my health insurance covers it and I was curious as to what my subconscious is up to. Mostly about men. I love men, I think they love me, but only in small bursts, then, “POOF” the love is gone. I can’t seem to make a relationship stick. And I’d really like one to stick.

Most of my life I’ve been floating about, having fun, exploring. I’m what they call a “free spirit.” If I were speaking out loud to you right now I would have totally done the whole air quotes thing, except I’m glad that I didn’t because that’s so overdone. But know that the air quotes are implied. Because the thing is, as much as I know that “free spirit” is not an insult, it usually comes off the heels of me doing something stupid like fall-in-love with a guy because he has nicely sculpted eyebrows, or fall into an indoor swimming pool at a fancy shmancy dinner party or fall flat on my face while roller skating down Venice Blvd. It would appear that I do an awful lot of falling. The thing is, I know what they mean by “free spirit.” They, the people who call me this name, they mean, wild, out of control, arrested development, woman-child, floozy. And, maybe they’re right. It’s true, I like to make my own rules, I roller skate to boardwalk cafe where I work along with my bestie, Debbie. While getting to roller skate around while balancing plates of grub isn’t the easiest gig for the gravity-challenged like myself, it’s certainly not the hardest either.

I’m 35 years old. I don’t know what that means. But I know it’s important because people are always talking about how old they are, how young they are, how much time they think they have left to do all the things that they “should be doing by now.” Whatever. I don’t care much for numbers. I look younger and yes, I’m a tad immature, so there’s that. The thing is, why don’t we all just concentrate on living our lives, enjoying ourselves, maybe do some good things here and there and forget about the number that comes after our name? You ever notice that? When you read a a magazine article the story always has names of people, followed by their age. Blanche Smith, 47, Richard Donner, 23, Stella Burnside, 59. Why is that? Why don’t they list other information like, Blanche Smith, hideous narcissist, Richard Donner, pathological liar, Stella Burnside, greedy gold-digger. Those paint a deeper picture than a silly number, don’t you think?

Here are few images from my series, You Once Sat Here. Photos I took of abandoned chairs and sofas. Here's their story.

View the whole series here.

A gift for you! 15% off link for my shop! I add art and products daily, so if you haven't been in awhile, please check it out!

Thanks for reading!

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In love, stories & art,

annie wood

BONUS! In case you missed it on social media, here's my dad's 92 year old girlfriend singing to him on the way to my dad's 94th birthday brunch. Enjoy the love. :)

 Knock on Wood Productions