
However, if you read the first “exercise” about Cronesboro (or after you read it today), maybe you can help inspire me for the second bit. The first exercise was about foretelling/foreboding. The second, presumably next weekend, might be about “variety in locations for the narrator.” Feel free to add some suggestions in the comments to inspire me.
What do I mean about variety in locations for the narrator? That can be a challenge, particularly in writing first-person narratives. The narrator must witness everything, but as stories go, that can sometimes be next to impossible. I’ve read books (by very famous authors) where the author resorted to having various townspeople drop by the narrator’s house and tell her about events — for most of the story. An author can avoid that tediousness by creating reasons for the narrator to be in various places — or by making sure there are “places” in the first place.
So… my question to you… your chance to participate… is:
What are some potential places, in a small (desert) town where a main character might learn about — or preferrable witness
something story-worthy, like a crime, strange goings-on, or some kind of drama? Inspire me in a comment.
Previous Post
Now, incase you missed it, or as a refresher…
My exercise — and something that you might try for practice yourself, has to do with “foreshadowing” and/or “foreboding.” My own response to this exercise is the kind of storytelling that you have to watch closely, so to speak, for little clues and hints. It wouldn’t hurt to brush up on your supernatural lore too. Now, buckle up! We’re on the road to Cronesboro.
The Dragons of Cronesboro

1: There’s Just One More Thing
Why am I so tense?Shoulders bunched up all the way to my ears, I tried in vain to relax. The urge to look over my shoulder repeatedly assailed me, and for no good reason. It wasn’t as if I had never gone off into the unknown… alone… or mostly alone. I glanced to the seat next to me at the sound of movement. I had not been prepared for that situation either.
Unaccustomed to driving a vehicle that was so different from anything else I’d ever had, I rounded a sharp curve carefully. Abruptly, “dry lightning” cracked the sky, causing me to jump. It was accompanied by thunder that sounded oddly like laughter. A small dark cloud passed overhead.
I looked up curiously at the dark blot. It moved too fast to be a cloud.
Then I nearly screamed when a roadblock immediately followed the curve. My tires screeched as the heavy vehicle slid to a stop an inch away from the barricade.
A loud displeased sound came from the crate in the passenger seat. I squinted at the small — and vague directions on the detour sign.
“Are you okay, Tiamat? A hundred miles of desert in any direction, and there’s a detour?” I muttered. “How is that even possible?”
My sense of unease accelerated along with the gas pedal and I veered onto the seemingly eternal road.***
24 Hours Previously
The conference table wasn’t huge, but it took up most of the room. I stared absently at the woodgrain, my brain numb from all of the “buts” of the transaction. Alone for the moment, I slumped against the tall, padded back of my chair.“Trinity Roy?” a woman stuck her head inside the door and asked. “I’m sorry for the delay. Mrs. Askook’s agent will be back with you in a few more minutes. He’s just, um, ironing out a detail or two.”
If they come back with one more thing — just one more thing… my fatigued brain muttered irritably, but I knew I’d have to stick with it for such an extraordinary deal on a house.
Finally, the estate agent returned to the room, with a tense smile plastered onto his face.
“Thanks for being so patient, Ms. Roy. There are just a few more details.”
Great… now what?He seemed to read my expression. He swallowed and proceeded to reassure me that there was something good. I, of course, smelled a rat. With a flourish, he produced an 8 X 10 photo of a pristine vintage car. I was befuddled.
“This vehicle has to go with the purchase of the house. That’s a firm requirement,” he stated and promised that it was in good running order.
“It’s gorgeous,” I murmured after giving a low whistle. “That’s like one of those ‘too good to be true’ things you see on TV. Why haven’t you snapped up the house or the car yourself?”
“No one in the law firm, or any of our relatives or associations are allowed,” he explained with obvious regret. “There are also conditions regarding who Mrs. Askook would let have the property — mostly the age and gender requirements, which you meet.”
“What kind of name is Askook anyway?” I wanted to know.
“Native American,” he started. “Algonquian to be precise. It means snake.”
Even though I suppressed a shudder at the name meaning, I shook my head in continued astonishment. I reached for the pen, ready to put my signature on the documents.
“There’s just one more thing,” he added, and my lips tightened. “The car cannot be sold for at least ten years, and the purchaser must drive it to the property in New Mexico.”
I nodded. I would have to drive there anyway. I needed a roof over my head, and I had not found good options in my meager price-range anywhere else. However, the agent cleared his throat.
“And you have to take Tiamat,” he added.
“Please, by all that’s holy, tell me that Tiamat is not a snake.”
***

I had been driving since dawn, pulling a little U-Haul attached to the car, and Tiamat complaining most of that time. I realized that my new town was in the back end of the desert. The only recommendation it really had was the fact that property was cheap and it didn’t get snow more than once a year.
The “middle of nowhere” had left my rearview mirror many miles hence when a sickly-sweet metallic scent met my nose. It quickly blossomed to combine with pungent odors of ammonia, manure, and something rotten. It was like roadkill on steroids.
“Ugh!” I cried, hurriedly rolling up the window.
“Meow,” Tiamat commented curiously from crate in the passenger seat.
Tiamat was the second strange requirement attached to Mrs. Askook’s estate, a large “traditional,” chocolate point Siamese cat, the kind that didn’t have that wedge-shape head.In the distance on the side of the road, I saw a sprawling metal structure topped by a massive sign that read “Kilgore Meat Processing Plant.”
Well, that’s suitable. And it’s definitely gore, I thought.
Twilight came, the sun lowering on horizon behind me, and I still had not reached my new home. Suddenly something dark loomed up in my rearview mirror. I slowed down, so they could pass. They sped up to my bumper and then quickly slowed down, repeating that close/far stunt a few times. It reminded me of the way some magnets repel each other. Yet they didn’t try to go around me.“The dumbasses don’t even have their headlights on. I can’t make out what kind of car it is,” I grumbled. “Are they just being jerks? There’s no traffic on this road, or streetlights, or anything else for that matter. Why won’t they go around me?”
Tiamat sniffed the air again and started growling.Another look in the rearview mirror showed the vehicle was closer, but not on my bumper, and holding that position. There was something strange about it. Actually, it didn’t look like any car I had ever seen. The shape was… unsteady, undefined. All I could say with any certainty is that it was dark.
Fear washed over me. I slammed my foot down on the gas pedal, the vintage Ford lurching ahead. The thing behind me kept pace. Abruptly it zoomed up, tailgating — and still I couldn’t make out what it was!

My eyes were on the rearview mirror more than the road ahead. The sensation of different pavement under the tires, followed by a hollow hum told me that I was on a bridge. That brought my attention back to where I was headed. Leaning to one side was a road sign that read “Lustral Creek.”
However, most of my brain was focused on whatever had just tried to run me off the road. To my immense relief the other car — because it had to be some kind of car, right? Anyway, it had not gotten close again. Not taking any chances, I kept my foot firmly on the accelerator.
The vintage Ford barreled past a speed limit sign and one of those monument-like town markers. I was going too fast to read either, but I knew I was going faster than whatever the speed limit was. I didn’t care.
I decided that I cared after all, when flashing lights and a siren came up behind me. Shaking like a leaf, I slowed down and pulled over.
The shortest deputy I had ever seen stiffly got out of the police cruiser. She had to be a few inches shy of five feet tall. She was also the oldest deputy I had ever encountered. Her mouth was twisted in what I took for disdain, or maybe it was just pure meanness. I lowered my window. The cat began meowing again.
“Ma’am did you know you were speeding?” she asked through twitching lips.
If I had not been scared out of my wits a few minutes before, I would have been offended, because the deputy looked for all the world like she was mocking me.
“Officer, um deputy… something, or somebody tried to run me off the road back there—” I stopped midsentence as a church bell that must have been quite nearby started tolling.
The bells were loud, and the noise seemed to egg on the complaining cat to louder meows in the backseat.
“Back where? You mean Lustral Creek? Humph… Well, I guess they’re back then, aren’t they,” the deputy muttered to herself.
As if I didn’t already have enough problems, the cat’s meowing became incessant, and Siamese cats can produce an operatic amount of volume.
“Tiamat, please be quiet!” I called over my shoulder, louder than I would have if I had not been so panicked — or needing to be heard above the excessive decibel level of Siamese yowling.
“Tiamat?” the deputy sputtered. “Isn’t that the name of some dragon or other?”
I justified myself by saying that I didn’t name the cat. The deputy looked to the direction from which the bells rang. She straightened to stare down the road, muttering the name “Lustral Creek.”
“You know what ‘lustral’ means,” she remarked, leaning curiously to inspect the paint color of the car. “Is that real silver mixed into the paint?” she added in a near whisper.
Her eyes went from the silver pre-war classic Ford roadster to the little square U-Haul trailer attached to it, then to me, and finally to the Siamese cat. Abruptly, the deputy burst out in a guffaw. She laughed so hard that her eyes watered.“So, Trinity Roy, were you chased by a vampire across the holy water creek, only to be stopped by Smokey? Can’t say I blame you if you ‘can’t drive 55’ during that. You know you’re supposed to be 55 years old if you’re gonna live here?” she remarked, and it didn’t occur to me until later that she had not checked my ID.
“Huh?” I croaked numbly.
Still laughing, she pointed to the stone entry monument. It read “You have entered Cronesboro. Residents must be over 55.”
“Since you drove in ‘over 55’ — miles per hour that is, I won’t check your age. I guess you’ll do. I’m a generous soul, so I’ll let you off with a warning.”
The deputy started back to her cruiser. Its combination of red and blue lights cast flashing strobes that made the shadows of her slight body shift and grow in distorted forms.
Her silhouette moved in the lights as she put a hand toward her head. I supposed she was lighting a cigarette. She let out a long puff of smoke, and then turned grinning, to call over her shoulder.
“Welcome to Cronesboro!”
***
End of Exercise 1
♦ ♣ ♠ ♥
So, as I was saying… now that Trinity is in Cronesboro, where might she go? What might be the smalltown hub for gossip? Where might she get needful things? What about that church — is there more to it? I’m inviting you to come out and play. Friendly comments are welcome. Hugs!♦ ♣ ♠ ♥
Oh, but wait! Here’s the obligatory shameless self-promotion.A Peril in Ectoplasm

Universal Purchase Links
Kindle: relinks.me/B0BJ9N1GBX Paperback: relinks.me/B0BJBXGJ7L♦ ♣ ♠ ♥
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Great to hear this good news. Take care and stay well dear Teagan. Hugs and love to you ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
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Hope your eyes get better Teagan. No story from my side.
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Thank you, Kamal. My eyes are much better now. Although the injury made the pollen and dry air much harder to deal with. But I’m definitely healing. Have a sparkling weekend. Hugs.
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Hi Teagan, I’m sorry to hear about your eye incident. Sore eyes are awful and then your computer crashed. You should be go now though and have no further problems for a while. A person could witness something interesting at a police station while reporting a minor accident or in a convenience store while buying snacks or in a restaurant room if someone was on their cell phone or in a tea shop having a snack.
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Ha! Oh, Robbie — I had to laugh, because yesterday my phone went out (while I was arranging to get some work done on this pathetic house). I spent 3 hours online with tech support… and then it went out again at bedtime. LOL, so it’s no wonder that this morning I woke up having a nightmare about drowning. I’d say that dream means I’m overwhelmed. Haha.
Those are great places. I particularly like the police station idea. That’s an unexpected place. Cool. Wishing you an easy coast down the other side of this midweek hump. Hugs.
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Oh Teagan, I hope your eye is feeling better. That sounds like quite an ordeal. Love the post. I always admire your imagination, and even in this exercise, there’s such a strong sense of atmosphere. The feeling of unease builds so naturally, and I found myself especially drawn to that crossing into Cronesboro. It feels like stepping into a place where different rules apply, though we’re not quite sure what they are yet. For your next exercise, thinking about places in a small desert town, a few came to mind: an old roadside diner, a nearly abandoned gas station, a dry creek bed, a small-town library with local records, or even a quiet churchyard at the edge of town.
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Thank you, Rebecca — it’s a lot better now. I admit it was frightening and overwhelming when it kept getting worse and I realized I should be in urgent care, but wasn’t able to drive in that condition. I was thankful to get some proper wash and more drops (which I ran out of the night before), even if it took 3 hours.
Ah, “a place where different rules apply”! I think that might apply to Cronesboro at that. 🙂 I very much like the places you came up with — truly excellent. I’ve had something in mind for a small library, actually before Cronesboro itself came to me, so that will probably show up eventually. But I love the abandoned gas station, and dry creek bed. Those could really drive an episode. Heartfelt thanks for coming out to play. Hugs on the wing.
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🙂📚🙂
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Fantastic, Teagan. Lots of foreboding and two things I love – vintage cars and cats. There are so many places your protagonist can go in the town and I really, really, want to learn more! Maybe a Gothic style hotel with ghosts?
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A place with ghosts? LOL, you know that’s right up my alley, Noelle. 😀 As you might have guessed from the picture at the top of the post, I do have the inkling of an idea for an Art Deco hotel (if not Gothic)… The story is in New Mexico, and there was a unique, regional hybrid style known as Pueblo Deco during the 1920s and 1930s. Albuquerque’s Kimo Theatre was an example. Maybe there’s some of that somewhere in Cronesboro.
Anyhow, depending on how the story develops. Haha, or what Trinity learns/hears at different places. I’ve already laid the way for a Native American influence, so there’s room for spooky goings on of all sorts. Have a splendid new week. Hugs.
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Pueblo Deco sounds fantastic. Can’t wait to see what it looks like!
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Oh my goodness, Teagan! You had me hooked all the way through. I do hope you get inspiration to continue. There are some nefarious happenings afoot for sure. I kept thinking of Stephen King’s Christine when the car came up. I sense some extraterrestrial things in this story. Perhaps Cronesburg is an isolated alien community and somehow the car’s strange silver color is a sign to them. ?? Don’t know. Just musing. Hope your eye heals up quickly!
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I’m glad you enjoyed this, Jan. The post is about participation, rather actual inspiration. When I asked for “places” it is meant to involve readers. Thanks — my eye is a little better each day. It would probably already be fine if there wasn’t so much dust/dirt and pollen blowing around. Have a great new week. Hugs.
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Teagan, this is so good! I hope your eyes are getting better.
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Thank you kindly, Jennie. They’re a little better each day. Today I’ve been able to do several half hour spurts at the computer. Have a splendid new week. Hugs.
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Good news!
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Oh gosh, rest and take care, Teagan. I have issues with my eyes as well…so I know how scary it can be. Great story unfolding… I’m wondering about a visit to the local crafts cooperative. Interesting ‘stuff’ and people possibilities. 😊
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It’s lovely to see you, Gwen. I admit that yes, it was frightening when I felt I should go to an “urgent care” place, but wasn’t in any condition to drive. At least I managed to get a delivery of some more suitable stuff for treatment (although it took a few hours). It’s better each day now.
A crafts co-op is a terrific idea. The residents of Cronesboro would surely have some unexpected crafts! Thanks for coming out to play. Hugs.
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Library, post office, grocery store. People act like nobody can hear them if they’re standing in line or in an aisle — it’s the weirdest thing! Movie theater or playhouse (in audience or backstage). School sports. Locker room at town swimming pool. Gardening center. Bus stop (assuming the town’s big enough, or if she heard something in the big city that only makes sense NOW).
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Thanks for the enthusiastic response, Marian — and for taking up the slack for those who didn’t “play.” Hmmm an old movie theatre is an intriguing thought. Although tiny desert towns don’t tend to have public swimming pools. My town is around 35000 people and no pool. But what the heck? It’s a fantasy, so you never know. 😀 Thanks for coming out to play. Hugs.
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Sara and I made a list of places to meet, which I’d be happy to send along. In response to your question, I was thinking of places where you could also overhear other people talking. Corydon (my town) is also small, maybe smaller than Cronesboro, but it has a pool. Privately owned but open to the public (for a fee), although I think it’s now run by the township.
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You and Sara are a great team. 🤗 “Over hearing” is a good device too.
Me asking for places/businesses was meant to be for reader engagement. Instead of my old serial way of asking for “3 random reader things” I asked for places. It’s about involving readers more than it is about writing. But I appreciate the offer.
As people send “exercise” answers that I can use, I’ll feature the person, like I used to do with “3 things.”
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Oh, I’m sorry to hog the participation! You come up with ways to get my imagination sparking. 🙂
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No worries, Marian. It makes me happy that you were so interested. 🤗
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I hope your eye heals fast. So sorry for that situation since it is such a concern. I think (like others) a general store visit is in the works. I would pull into the local gas station that has an old time look with store attached and maybe find yourself taken back to 1936. An old geezer behind the counter wonders why you want to pump your own gas. Have a super week, Teagan. I hope you feel better.
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Thanks, John — it’s getting better, but high pollen and very low humidity are slowing it down. Heck, anything’s better than it was the day it happened though. As Murphy’s Law would have it, I had run out of eye drops a few hours before it happened. I’m looking to buy a case or three now.
Wow… that’s a great concept for an entire book. You reminded me of a chapter in one of my unfinished novels (Guitar Mancer) that goes to the 1930s — I had been wondering if I should delete that, but maybe you’ve been in cahoots with The Universe to tell me to keep that. LOL. Anyhow, a gas station is a great idea. Thanks for coming out to play. Hugs.
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So glad you are getting better. Yeah I would keep it.
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oh, no – hope you.eye is doing better
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Many thanks, Beth — a little better each day. 🙂 I loved your post today. Big hugs.
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I hope you are getting better from your injury. I have always been worried about my eyes (and those of others) so I feel your pain (in a manner of speaking). All the suggestions sound good. I would add some sort of diner, although thinking about places where one can catch up on all the gossip, a hairdressers sound perfect, and a good way to meet people as well. And with the unfamiliar car, perhaps a mechanic or somebody who is skilled at doing a lot of mechanical works or repairs…
Take care, big hugs, and I’ll be thinking of you. Have plenty of rest. And love to the Scoobies. ♥
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Thanks, Olga — getting better, but pollen and dry air here are slowing it down. Yes, eyes are a concern.
That’s a great idea about the auto mechanic. Especially since that antique Ford isn’t going to be the only old car in town. Thanks for coming out to play. Hugs.
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She’d need to get some supplies (cat food, a litter box and litter) so there must be a general store of sorts or a place (maybe in the next town over) where townspeople flock to for variety or bargains. I’m sure there’s a church, which often doubles as the gossip hub. Maybe the cat notices a stray dog outside and Trinity snags it, checks its tags and walks it back to its owner.
All, of course, as you said, after going to the bathroom and feeding the cat.
I hope your eye heals and you feel better this weekend.
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Thanks, Dan. It’s a scratchy feeling start to the day, but everything will look better after I get coffee. I agree about a general store. I’ve used them in several stories. The church is a great idea. Since I mentioned the bells, I do need to bring it into the story. There needs to be something unique about it too. Humm…good food for thought. Thanks 🤗 Hugs.
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So sorry about your eye injury. Hope things clear up soon. … For a place in the town that something might occur I’m thinking of one of those self-storage places. Most towns have them, and she might need to store something that was in the Uhaul. I’m liking the story a lot! Enjoy the weekend 🙂
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Thanks, Barbara. Ah… Self storage would not have occurred to me. Cool beans! I hope your weekend is good. Hugs.
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I would think she’d need to go to the new house first and unpack. 🙂. And feed the cat! 😁 looking forward to more exercises in Cronesboro!
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Not to mention go to the bathroom. 🙀 There’s a tidbit waiting for Trinity at the front door — as soon as my eyes are comfortable enough to look at the computer long enough to write it. Thanks for visiting. Hugs.
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Hope your eyes get better soon, cold teabags are soothing on the eyes if you have 10 mins to have a lie down. 😘
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Thanks very much, Fraggle. I haven’t tried that. And it’s a good excuse for a cup of tea. Here the air is so very dry, and the pollen count is high now, so that’s adding to the discomfort (my eyelids were already raw from that). I’ve been using the moisture eye drops constantly. The teabags sound good. 🤗
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