What did I write?

I don’t remember the first story I ever wrote. We had this assignment every year in school that required us to come up with a story and then illustrate it. We put them in fancy blank books, and worked very hard on them. From first grade to sixth grade, every year like clockwork we worked on these stories, and it was one of my favorite lessons. The stories have somewhat faded in my memory, and I remember giving the books as gifts each Christmas to some grandparent or another. I do, however, remember the first time I picked up a pen to write something that wasn’t an assignment.

It was my freshman year in high school. I was at a friend’s house and we were watching a concert on TV with her cousin. We wished so desperately that we could meet the band, that we started to spin these wild tales of what our lives would be like if we did. I remember I dreamt about it that night and when I got home the next day I grabbed a notebook and thought I’d just write a little something down. Drawing from the experience of meeting another band at the mall earlier that year, it gave me a good foundation of where to start the story. The idea was, that we managed to score meet and greet passes to meet the Backstreet Boys and it went downhill from there. I was writing fanfiction before I knew fanfiction was even a thing.

I filled three notebooks. The story itself was horrible. There was no clear plot, or anything like it. I just knew that I was writing what I wished would happen but I knew never would. It was great. I was married to AJ, we had two kids. It was dramatic as all get out. Here I was, a thirteen year old kid, writing about adult life and marriage, and real scenarios, but I had no clue how any of that actually worked. It was horrible. But I finished it, and then wrote an even more dramatic sequel. If I remember correctly, it all turns out fine, but there’s something about getting shot, cheating, gambling, scams, it was a lot. I knew nothing about any of it, and it clearly showed.

I’m not saying that someone that age cannot write good fanfiction or a good story in general, I’m just saying that what I wrote was horrendous. I was naive in the sense that I didn’t want certain things in the story, so there wasn’t any alcohol, that’s not what people drank, when upset, people drank milk. Nothing was realistic, and I remember when I moved on to a new idea, which didn’t turn out any better. It did do wonders for me though in other ways.

I learned so much about writing and editing back then. How to let the story get away from you, how to reel it back in. How to plot something and then get to that point. I learned how to shape a story, and I learned to love the sound of the pen as it scratched it’s way across the page. The Best Surprise Ever may have been a piece of garbage, but to thirteen year old me, it was the best thing that had ever happened to me. I have never looked back. So maybe in the end, the surprise wasn’t meet and greet passes to meet the Backstreet Boys, but the love that I discovered for writing. How’s that for a lesson?

Warm nostalgic regards,

The City Lights

Once upon a time I decided that for Short Story Saturday I was going to follow a list of prompts. One of these prompts that actually turned out great, was writing a scene with no dialogue. This is especially challenging for me as I am great at dialogue. I love writing dialogue. One of my favorite parts of any story is the interactions between two characters. When I wrote this, it was difficult to write something and convey an emotion without dialogue for me. I have grown as an author since then, but this stood out to me as something good. I hope that you enjoy this flashback to me as a writer in 2014. Enjoy.

Christian sat in the dimly lit living room of his top floor loft, gazing out at the city through the floor to ceiling picture window.  He rolled the liquid in his cup back and forth before bringing it to his lips and feeling the familiar burn of the whiskey slide down his throat.  He may be located in the center of the city, a city currently bustling with Saturday night life, but he felt as alone as the ice cubes in the now empty glass.

Feeling the need to get up and move, he stood and crossed the room in quick deliberate strides.  After refilling his glass, he paced back across the large room.  Agitation was crawling under his skin and taking root; he didn’t understand it.  Normally he was poised, self-assured, calculating, but when it came to her, he was lost.  It was as if he was a fifteen year old boy all over again.  He was certain this woman would be his undoing.

It wasn’t as if he’d never been in love before, but this was entirely new.  They’d been good friends for two years now.  Not once had she effected him like she had the last three months.  She was driving him insane.  He was no longer the same confident being he had been in her presence.  No; now he felt as if he needed to do anything and everything to win her over.  But every time he tried, he ended up looking like a bumbling fool; too distracted by her eyes, her hair, and her mouth.  Oh God, her mouth, how he longed for her lips to be pressed against his own…

Christian stopped the though in its tracks and downed his drink in one swallow.  He had to do something to stop this madness.  His sudden inability to communicate the smallest of things to her was the cause of his agitation, that was certain.  Wasn’t it? He shook his head in dismay; there he was, second guessing himself again.  It seemed to occur more and more these days, and there was only one cause.

Christian shook his head, set his glass in the sink and took himself to bed, before he managed to lose all of his self respect.

Across town, Azaria laid in bed wondering what on earth had happened to Christian lately.  They used to hang out a couple of nights a week with co-workers and friends.  Grabbing a bite to eat, watching a movie, a drink on Friday evening….now she barely saw him.  When she did she him, it was different.  Now, instead of long conversations on whatever subject of interest, he was quiet, standoffish, and barely said more than a couple of words at a time.  Something had changed between them, she longed to know what was wrong.

Should she tell him that she missed the old him? The confident, funny, intelligent man she’d fallen for when they first met?  Had he finally found out how she felt?  Could that be the reason for the distance between them? No, she dismissed the thought before fluffing her pillow and wrapping up a little tighter in her blankets.

Whatever Christian’s problem with her was, it was probably better in the long run if she just outright asked him about it.  So with a resolve to do just that the very next time she saw him, she closed her eyes and let sleep take her.

Well, I hope you enjoyed that! As always, please enjoy your weekend and be safe out there!


So, this is something that I wrote seven years ago, and if you follow my personal blog at all, you’ll recognize it from there. I’m cross-posting it here because at this moment in time I just do not have the time to write something new for Short Story Saturday. So, for the next few weeks, I will be cross-posting the short stories I’ve already written here. That will give me a little bit of time to get something new to you guys. What with figuring out online school for the kiddos, the launch of my whole writer platform, editing Noctivagus, writing No Ordinary Love, and did I mention that we’re getting ready for Christmas already at work? Yeah, so that’s a thing. I’m just swamped. So please enjoy this short story and tune in next week for another one! Thanks!

I took my order from the clerk at the counter and looked around for somewhere to sit while I waited.  I finally found a small table nestled against the windows and surrounded by writers and college students typing furiously on their laptops.  Worry creased their brows as impending deadlines loomed in the future.

I unwrapped my scarf and sipped my tea while I gazed out at the bustling street. People rushing to their next destination, not bothering to see the beauty around them.  The leaves on the well-manicured trees were aflame with autumn oranges, yellows, and reds.  They had only begun to turn and the colors were still vivid. Soon they’d turn brown, die, and fall off, and then the snows would come. I mentally shook myself and took another drink, I needed to keep the dark thoughts away.

The familiar sounds of espresso machines, milk being steamed, and the smell of coffee beans being roasted permeated the small shop and brought comfort to the warmth.  The consistent clacking of keys on keyboards added to overall ambiance which helped to ease my apprehension.  I let it wrap around me like a cocoon of warmth.  Only then did I allow myself to think of him.

It had been three weeks since I’d seen him, and so much had happened in that time.  Absently I sipped my tea while I thought of his smile, his eyes, his sense of humor, and mostly how much I missed him.  A brief glance at the clock on the wall told me that he was late.  Maybe he wouldn’t come at all.  He had only reluctantly agreed to meet me here.

With each passing minute, the sound of the ticking clock grew louder. It was like an intrusion on the brief moment of peace I’d found.  After a few more minutes, or was it seconds, the clacking keyboards joined the clock in sounding the panic that I’d been stood up.  Everywhere I looked, people were staring at me.  The pompous writers peering over their screens.  The college students thinking how old and washed up I must be, sitting here on my own.  The clock was getting louder.  My anxiety pushing my heart to an accelerated pace.  My pulse echoing the ticking, and accentuating the conversations in the far corners of the shop.  Why was everyone staring?  Maybe I should go, make it seem as though I was only settling down a moment before I went off again.  Save myself the humiliation of him not…

“Sorry I’m late.” he said.  His voice breaking into my once warm cocoon that had become a prison.  

At that moment everything stopped.  All I could hear was the rush of blood in my ears and my shallow breaths.  He was standing beside the table, smiling down at me.  In his hand he held a bouquet of sunflowers and his own cup.


Well, I hope you enjoyed that. I remember when I wrote it, I wasn’t sure who the characters were, what was happening in their lives or anything else. I’m still not certain I know seven years on. Oh well, they pop up from time to time in my Short Story Saturday submissions, so maybe we can find out together. Well, I’m off, please enjoy what’s left of your weekend my dears!

What I’m writing

So, idea time. What say we talk a little about the book I’m currently working on. Sound good? Okay then.

Currently, I’m working on a story called No Ordinary Love. I absolutely love this story. It’s one of my oldest ideas, only this time it’s been remixed. When I came up with the idea, I was maybe seventeen, and still fully engrossed in writing nothing but fan fiction. I had original ideas, but an entire cast of original characters was a bit scary at that time.

I’d already written four mediocre excuses for fan fiction by the time this idea came to me. Honestly, it was one of the most beautiful things I had written to date. I was so proud of it. I worked incredibly hard on it as well, filled notebook after notebook with ramblings. I’m pretty sure I did more writing for that story in English class my senior year than I did actual homework.

Sadly, before I left for the Navy, I was sorting through old stories and got rid of a lot of things. Something someone had said to me made me angry and I threw everything away. Well, almost everything, I saved one or two of the really bad stories, but not this one. I hadn’t finished it, but I knew what was going to happen. It went into the garbage bag with the rest and then to the trash.

Flash forward fifteen years. I still thought about this story a lot. I thought about it with increasing frequency to the point that I just knew I had to get it out again. This time it was going to be all original characters. This time I was going to do it right, and finish it and to hell with anyone who thought it was garbage.

The name for the story came from something I remember very vividly writing in the margins of the notebooks I had written it in originally. I like to listen to music while I write, and when I hit a block I used to doodle in the margin while I thought. It didn’t occur to me until I was re-reading it one day, way back when, and saw the same three words in the margins of about twenty pages in a row. It must be a sign right? Well, seventeen year old me thought so. So you can credit the Backstreet Boys for the title of this one.

The story itself didn’t change, at least not the overall premise. Girl has best friend when they’re little. Girl moves away just before seventh grade and they never see one another again. That is, until one of them starts showing up on posters and the radio. Well, it’s been years since they’ve seen each other, she has to go and see him, and hopefully he’ll remember her. Good news (Spoiler!) he does!

So what happens between them, now that they’ve reunited and been as strong as they always had even a decade later? How will he react when her newest boyfriend happens to be one of his friends? What happens then?

No Ordinary Love follows Ember and Mason and the ways that their friendship is tested and changes due to the every day stressors of life. I can’t wait to finish it so that I can get it out for everyone to enjoy! I’ll keep you posted.

Have a great day guys, thanks for joining me!


Hello! Welcome to Amber Marie Writes!

I just wanted to pen a short thing and let you know that I’m glad you’re here! I, as you may have guessed, am Amber Marie. I like to write a lot of different things, mostly fiction. I always have a bunch of stuff that I’m working on. There’s a list of about fifteen different stories that I need to write right now. It’s a list. I’m working on it, I swear. Right now, I’m working on one story, while editing another and tracking one that’s been recently published. I’m also getting ready for the next story that I’m going to be writing, and then, there’s always NaNoWriMo that I have to prepare for as well and Preptober begins soon.

So come along with me on this journey and hear about my writing! Follow me on Insta and Facebook to stay up to date on all things Amber Marie Writes! See you guys soon!