Saturday Top Six

I skipped Friday again! It’s always my busiest workload day.

So my new book is part of a small town romance series and when I write, each book has its own playlist. I noticed as I started filling up this playlist, it was about 50% country music. Though the book, in general, has nothing to do with country music, it just helped set my mood.


So today I bring you: Top Six Songs I am writing to right now. (also, is Luke Bryan still offering up a party crashing, because…….yeah, I’d crash that party)


  1. I Miss You – Incubus
  2. Ghost Towns – Radical Face
  3. Beautiful Son  – Without Gravity
  4. I’ll Be Good –  Jaymes Young
  5. I Don’t Dance – Lee Brice
  6. Barefoot Blue Jean Night – Jake Owen

Also, if you haven’t already – go here to win $15 to Amazon! ——> HERE

Friday top Five: weird things I do when I write

Writers are weird. Just as a breed, we are weird. We get inspiration at the strangest times and the the strangest hours. We carry notebooks around with us for when those strange inspirations come to us. We probably lurk around you like creeps, looking, listening and watching all to perfect our embodiment of human interaction – because you know, we aren’t normal so we have to watch you to figure it out. We drink too much coffee and stay in our pajama’s a lot.

Weird thing 1: I talk to myself. Like, constantly. Not just talk to myself, ask myself questions…and then answer them. I write something and talk it out, I give myself great feedback by the way.

Weird thing 2: I read my book aloud to myself. Especially the dialogue. BUT, it helps me find words and conversations that don’t flow!

Weird thing 3: If I’m right in the thick of it, and on a writing spree – I won’t get up. Not to pee. Not to eat. Not to feed my cats or hamster. My kids make themselves ramen noodles for lunch. I literally cannot get up. Well, I mean I can, but………….

Weird thing 4: I get weird about people reading my work. Yeah, hi, I’m Alyne. I’m an author who published her book but is afraid for you to read it. I need therapy.

Weird thing 5: I cannot write without music on. But I can’t write with the TV on, or other people talking in the background. I’m not so sure how that works, but it does…

Sorry I have ignored my blog this week! Work has been a bear, and I am exhausted every day when I get home.



Word Count Goals


If I don’t hold myself accountable, I will slack off.

My end game goal is minimum 80,000 words, but really shooting for 100,000+. I’m currently sitting at 1570, with a goal of writing 1,000 to 2,000 a day. *I’m sweating already*

Writers, what’s your daily word goal and how do you hold yourselves accountable for it?

Saturday Top Six?

Apologies! I skipped my Friday Five – but in my defense, I was driving for nearly twelve hours! So I bring you Saturday Top Six.

Today: Top six things I NEED when I write.


One. A scent. Weird? Certain scents just ignite something in me and this one in particular always does the trick. It smells all manly and woodsy to me, and for sure gets me fired up to write some romance!


Two. Coffee or tea. Lately, it’s been green tea with matcha.


Three. Snacks! I don’t even know how I can stand myself after posting all of these together. The smell of white woods, a cup of green tea and Wasabi peas – yet somehow I’m still alive! I love these things and they are the perfect little snack when writing.


Four. Notebooks, planners and tons of pens and pencils to jot down dates, ideas, things to research – I have a million notebooks and calendars scattered around my desk.


Five: My cat. If you hang out long enough you will discover I am somewhat obsessed with my cat (s) Meet Jojo, my beautiful baby. She is just about as obsessed with me as I am with her. Her little friend Hazel, however, besides me giving her food – really doesn’t care about me much at all.


Six. A break. Tuesday night Trivia at The Red Monkey is the perfect break!


It’s a small world, survivors and sisters…


I have not done half as much writing as I had anticipated this trip. I saw myself staying up late at night, pecking away at the keyboard of my laptop until my eyes couldn’t keep themselves open a second longer. I saw myself hammering out a few chapters by the end of the week.

That didn’t happen.

What did happen was I bonded with my mother in a way we never have before. For anyone who has never experienced a trauma – the concept of triggers might seem foreign or silly. People will sometimes tell you to move on, let it go, forget about it. But triggers are tricky, and not something you can just move on from and forget about. Sometimes you think you’ve cleared all the demons, all the things that haunt you. I’ve had things trigger me that surprised me.

I triggered my mom, on accident, or unwittingly I should say. She shut herself in her room and cried for awhile before coming out to talk to me.

What happened was a conversation that brought us closer. I won’t share her story. It’s not mine to share. But she had a rough, rough, rough upbringing. There were things I knew, but not the depth to which she shared with me. Things she’s never told anyone, not even therapists she’s seen to work on other things from her childhood. In turn, I shared things with her that  I’d never told her – mostly to protect her from being upset or feeling like she failed to protect me somehow.

We cried, we hugged and we talked openly. I shared poetry about these things with her and we talked about how she could work on “letting go” a bit.

Survivors is what we are. And I know there are other sisters and brothers in the survivor family with us. I met one today.

I’ve always hated the phrase “it’s a small world”. I don’t know why. It just bothers me. It’s a huge world! Yet time and time again, I am reminded that it is indeed a small world – and the connectors are sometimes awe-inspiring.

I live in Walla Walla, Washington and I am currently visiting a tiny town called Rockaway Beach, Oregon. Last year when I came here I had forgotten to get my co-workers some salt water taffy. Today we headed out into town, visiting some local shops for knick-knacks, t-shirts, coffee and ice cream. At the last minute I spotted a little candy shop and sure enough, they had local salt water taffy. I bought quite a bit and explained to the woman that the last trip here I had forgotten to bring some back. She said that was nice of me and asked where I was from. “Walla Walla,” I told her. Her eyes lit up and she said, “Oh, I love Walla Walla. I grew up in Yakima.” I’m pretty sure my eyes lit up and I smiled and told her I had grown up in Yakima.

We got to talking about our age, and schools we had attended and for some reason, I brought up my mom and her name and where she worked. She knew my mom from her work.

I won’t share this woman’s story. It’s not mine to tell. What I can tell you is that I felt blessed that she shared it with me. The hairs on my arms stood up. I cried. We were bonded you see. Survivor sisters.

I believe in fate. I believe in connections and paths. I don’t know why I went into that shop. There was taffy at the ice cream store. I don’t know why I shared my age and city and mother’s name with her. I don’t know why she decided to share such intimate and personal information with me. I know that I was supposed to cross her path. And I know that it was fate that it happened after that intense night with my mom. I know that fate has made me cross paths with other sisters and brothers.

It’s a small world, and perhaps I should embrace it.