Rockhound Hoarder #IWSG

Today I’m writing for the Insecure Writer’s Support Group’s blog hop. The first Wednesday of each month, we write in inspiration to a question posed by the group’s administrators. We don’t need to write in response to the question posed, but I like to use their query as the springboard for the monthly post.

This month’s question is:

Writers have secrets! What are one or two of yours,
something readers would never know from your work?

The awesome co-hosts for the June 3 posting of the IWSG are Pat Garcia, J.Q. Rose, and Natalie Aguirre!

Rockhound Hoarder

What? You want me to spill my secrets? Right here in print?

Now, most months I play along with IWSG’s Question of the Month. But this month, I think you are taking things a little too far, Insecure Writer’s Support Group. If I have secrets that I am not going to tell my best friend, I’m certainly not going to put it out here in the virtual world to live forever.

However, as horrified as I was when I initially read the question, I did give it some thought. What can I share with you here that won’t be cause of future embarrassment? What tidbit can I share about myself that won’t get me in trouble with anyone?

Rocks.

Yes, I will admit to this secret obsession. I love rocks.

Big rocks. Little rocks. Pretty rocks. Interesting rocks. Shiny rocks. Dull rocks.

I love rocks!

Almost every trip I make, I haul rocks home. Sitting in my center console are rocks I collected the year I lived in Arizona. I moved to Texas twelve years ago and the rocks remain. They were pretty. One was shaped like a miniature pyramid. One had pretty stripes. One had…well, you understand that they’re all fascinating in their own wonderful way.

I come home from visiting my dad in Arkansas…yep…there’s rocks in the trunk to put into my flower bed out back.

Trips to local creeks with friends here in Texas…fossils! Gotta bring some of them home!

This isn’t a new fascination. I remember family hikes we took when we lived in Glendora, California. On Saturday mornings we’d drive up to the foothills of Mt. Baldy. I wore a zippered sweatshirt with those two large pockets in the front. And by the time we were headed back to the car, I was loaded down with my loot for the day.

So there you have it. A secret about me that I haven’t shared with any of you – until today. Sorry it wasn’t a juicer secret.