#SpecialFeature :: #FlashFiction - Mara Cooper Knows Not Her Power by Molly D. Campbell

*** Special Feature - June 2017 ***

About the Author

Molly writes from her pantry, often in pajamas. She exercises regularly, despite the fact that she has sustained numerous injuries involving barbells and exercise balls. She successfully raised two gorgeous daughters, who both pay their own bills. 

Molly has few interests other than reading books and writing, although she and her husband did attempt clog dancing with disastrous results.

A huge fan of HGTV, Molly has been known to watch marathon sessions of “Househunters” while leafing through magazines and snacking.

Molly’s husband has an accordion band. The neighbors have started a collection to fund soundproofing for the Campbell’s basement.

Molly can be found at: Website * Blog * Twitter

A BOOK IN HAND

I began my writing career with "flash fiction," which is defined as very short stories. I self-published a book of flash, Characters in Search of a Novel, which is still and always available on Amazon. Although I went on to write novels (my second, Crossing the Street, is available for preorder on Amazon, published by The Story Plant), I still love to write flash fiction. I can't seem to stop! I publish these on Medium, a website for writers and readers, and I write there for Literati Magazine. Here is one of my latest, which, of course, I also illustrate!

MARA COOPER KNOWS NOT HER POWER

 

I love her. Here are some of the things that I would do for Mara: I would eat sushi for her, even though the idea of raw fish makes my insides churn. I would have lunch for seven consecutive days with my Aunt Gert, and I would smile every time she told the same story about how hard she worked at the brassiere factory (why this would impress Mara is anyone’s guess, but I would do this just to suffer for Mara’s love). I would get a tattoo of Mara’s name in a secret place, so as not to embarrass her. I would kiss her after she eats garlic toast.

I would get her flowers every Friday and deliver them in person to her door. Ok, maybe I would have them delivered, because she might think I was a stalker otherwise. I would not buy her chocolates, because she does Paleo. I would look directly into her eyes and smile at her often, because women like men with confidence. I would never walk behind her, unless, of course, she wanted me to.
I would take her to the theatre to see depressing plays about people in crisis. I would sit through all the movies she likes about time travel. I would read all the Stephen King Dark Tower books, even though I think they are boring, because Mara carries one of them into work every day and reads it during break.

Mara loves soup. I know this, because she orders it in for lunch all the time. She eats it properly, with the spoon held parallel to her lips. I would do this, too. Mara has remarked that soup is all one needs for a perfect meal-soup and candle light. I would eat that hot, watery broth with a few leeks floating in it and declare myself sated. For her.

I would start jogging, because Mara has “running a marathon” on her bucket list. I would get those legging things, so that I would look good trying to keep up with Mara in her Lulumen-Lulomom-Lulubel (whatever they are) togs.

I would be patient but persistent. Not stalky or creepy. Just there for her. I would have a handkerchief ready for sad situations, and a pocket full of change for parking meters.

I would kill anybody who tried to hurt her. I would send her mother flowers on Mother’s Day. I stop smoking. I would grow a goatee. I would try to give up watching football. I would start wearing aftershave, but not Axe. I would learn how to tell jokes.

I would throw myself under a train for her.

I am not sure how to introduce myself. “Hi, I am Clayton. I have worked one cubicle over from you for a year.” That just doesn’t cut it. “Hey, Clayton here, you know — from accounting!” GOD, no. “Hey there! Clayton. I am only doing this job until I get out of law school.” (Better. Note to self: apply to law school). “Hi. I’m Clay.” Shit.

Damnation. Here she comes. I got nada.

About the Book

This wasn't the way Beck Throckmorton had planned it. She wasn't expecting to find herself in her thirties writing erotica and making flat whites for a living while she stewed over that fact that her ex had wound up with her sister. She never saw herself living in a small suburban Ohio town with an octogenarian neighbor best friend. And she definitely wouldn't have imagined the eight-year-old great-granddaughter of that friend turning her world upside down. 

As summer comes around, Beck's life is unsettled in every way. And that's before the crazy stuff starts: the sister taunting her with her pregnancy, the infuriatingly perfect boyfriend, the multiple trips to the emergency room. The needy, wise-beyond-her-years little girl finding places in her heart that Beck didn't even know existed. 

Beck has found herself at an emotional intersection she never anticipated. And now it's time to cross the street.

CROSSING THE STREET is a funny, touching novel that brims life's complexities. Filled with characters both distinctive and welcomingly familiar, it is a story that will entertain and enlighten.

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