Besties...

1. Start your story with one character trying to convince another to take up their favorite hobby.

Ann and Jean were the best of friends. They might be what one would call “soul mates”, although not in the romantic way. They understood each other and supported each other in ways no one else ever would. Even in checking their genealogy, they probably served as ladies in waiting to some great House or Monarch. Indeed, at events, they would show up in the same colour or type of dress instinctually. They held each other's hands through ups and downs and relationships. When Ann’s marriage fell apart, it was Jean’s house she showed up at and ended up staying; grabbing her beloved pets and taking her hippie van that was always packed for a quick getaway. When Jean had problems with her ex or boss, it was Ann’s house that always had a pot of warm soup and a cocktail at the ready. But that’s where their similarities ended. 

One was creative and a little ditsy, although diligent enough to be responsible, and the other was good with maths and figures and more analytical, although still silly enough to have fun. You might say, one was right brained, the other left, although they could easily meet in the middle for business decisions and projects. Both thrifty, they decided to do a side business of picking up yard sale fodder and selling it directly to clients. Ann liked to distress funky finds, paint them up or re-sew fashions into something new and stylish. Whereas Jean had a client base, and could get someone that, say, wanted their office organized, and find all the things necessary for that and redo their room, plus label and sort things...Ann’s brain didn’t work that way. When Jean’s boss, who was in his 80’s, was getting so senile that he couldn't remember the last order he barked, having Jean run in circles all day, she quit. Her boss was one of those that thought if he retired, he would die, so he kept on going, making poor decisions and not letting the staff take the reigns. Jean had far more patience than Ann, and she put up with it until she could no more. So, she had enough clients, and started her own CPA business. For once, she was in control of her life.

Ann didn’t work in the conventional sense. She was an artist, and had many hobbies; music, fashion, dance, heritage and many others. She was altruistic and on several committees and liked to give back. With her marriage getting more violent and abusive, she needed to make money, but being conventional only put more stress on her. She often stayed at Jean’s, and even lived in a women’s shelter for a while with her beautiful pets...until the shelter decided they didn’t want them there. This put Ann, vulnerable and without any income, in the position that she had to reconcile with her husband. They moved out of the area, which made Ann even more isolated. The abuse escalated of course, as these things tend to do in a vacuum. He took to filming her in her distress, crying and sobbing, and doing a voice-over that he had done nothing and she was just losing her mind. And losing it she was...she didn’t know up from down anymore. Nightly, Ann slept with her phone under her pillow, testing Jean and what the latest insane thing her husband did. Jean couldn’t do anything about it of course, but just having a lifeline to someone who cared. Sometimes, the police got involved, the screaming matches were so much. One time, with her husband once again trying to kill her in the car, she opened the door and rolled out. She made it to a cafe and had soup, then calmly called the police. She had them bring her back to ‘talk to’ her husband, who once again promised to never do it again. He was also acting out on other people, and actually got arrested for damaging someone else’s car. Ann had many trips to the hospital over the years, that left her scarred and disabled. She wanted a life, but didn’t know how to get one. 

Her whole life, Ann loved writing. She had been a dancer, that and holding several other jobs in things she enjoyed, like fashion, had supported her as a single mother. When she met her new husband, she was already mature and the kids had flown the nest. She thought it was a blessing; she wouldn’t have to work so hard anymore. She had eked out a living as an artist, doing gallery shows, she sang and did events, and as she really couldn't dance like she used to, she still did perform occasionally. She took every kind of dance and movement class she could find, although the arthritis from teaching dance on concrete for so many years had taken its toll; that and the abuse and injuries which ultimately made her disabled. She had little income, and was waiting for early Social Security to kick in, based on her disabilities. When it did, she planned on fleeing. 

No matter where they lived, Ann and Jean communicated all the time. Ann’s emails were long and philosophical, as she gained epiphanies and insight into her own life. Jean loved to write as well, but for communication, not enjoyment. She was far more grammatically correct, and tried hard to steer her friend who was coming to an abyss. She, like many of Ann’s friends, told her she should write. Ann always knew that would be her ticket, her thing that would get her on with her life, but it had always been so much drama, there had never been a safe haven in which to do so…

Ann made the decision to leave, but not just flee and be followed. She loved heritage, and decided to move back to England, to be nearer her ancestral home. She felt that if was closer to her ‘roots’, she would figure it out. Historically, they had never been ones to be pushed around; why was Ann? She wasn’t a doormat by any means! She cared, she helped others, but one of the things that attracted Ann and Jean in their friendship was utter kindness, but a bottom line of what they would and would not accept from others. Ann had to plan this move all in secrecy, although she gave her husband one more chance; get help or I leave. When he refused help with the X amount of months she allotted that change, he was shocked when she revealed her plans to leave. He told her to “get the hell out of his house”, bought her a one way ticket and gave her $100 to live off of; the Social Security still not kicking in yet. She had her beloved cat in his carrier with his papers loaded for the airport, but at the last second her husband said she couldn’t take him. That is something that would gut Ann for the rest of her days, but fleeing was so necessary, she would have cut of a limb to get away. 

When Ann got back to England, she kissed the ground. She immediately made a plan to take care of herself. She walked, painted, and made friends in the pubs. She devised a plan to work with her disabilities, paying for massages and acupuncture once Social Security, which was a substantial lump sum for all the years she had waited, came in. She lost weight, looked more beautiful than ever, and even started dating again. She quickly met someone she fell in love with. All this was, of course, written back to Jean, in emails and letters. They discovered Facebook messenger was a good way to keep in touch, although Jean was super busy with her accounting business. Ann tried to heal, and Jean kept telling her, as did others, that her emails were so touching and poignant, that she should write. And so she did....