Short story Sunday

Here’s a couple hundred more words. I planned on writing a little more for this week since I skipped last week, but I got caught up in editing my novel. I also decided instead of posting the same part every week and then adding the newer part at the end, I am just going to post the newer part. When the story is completed, I will post the entire thing together in one post.

Well, here you go:

Work was going to suck tonight. I’d call off, but one of us had to be responsible in this household and I knew Momma couldn’t be counted on for that. On top of everything else, I refuse to be homeless. Pulling myself out of bed took all my energy, but I did it.

The guy at table 254 looks like him. I did a double take to make sure it was all in my head. Walking by again I noticed his nose was too long and his face too short. This guy also looked a little older. The guy looked up and smiled at me, probably saw me staring and thought I liked him or something. Too bad I’m dead inside, poor guy didn’t stand a chance. After picking up some empty plates off another table, I hurried back into the kitchen to hide.

Sarah, Abby, Laurie, and Riley all huddled together, talking quietly in the vestibule. “Hey girls what are we talking about?”

“Ohh nothing, just a party we’re all going to after work,” Laurie said in a tone, which implied I wouldn’t be interested.

“Really? Cool, can I come?” Four sets of wide eyes stared back at me, as if I spoke a different language.

“I don’t really think it’s your type of party,” Abby said.

“Why’s that?”

“There’s going to be drinking and other things you’re probably too innocent to comprehend.” The other girls nodded their heads in agreement, except Riley. She looked like she wanted to smack Abby as much as I did.  

I smiled sweetly at her and said, “what’s the matter Abby? Afraid I can drink you under the table?” Riley laughed as Abby glared at me.

“Let’s find out,” Abby smirked. “We’ll see you tonight, if it’s not past your bedtime.”

“Great, I’ll see you there,” I said cheerfully. Challenging Abby was stupid. She’s like the head cheerleader at work and if she doesn’t like you then your life can be a living Hell. All of the younger girls flock to her side whenever she’s working. Good thing I’m numb on the inside and don’t care what Abby thinks, I just need to get out of my head and going to a party seems like the perfect distraction. At least I wouldn’t be stealing from Momma tonight.

Editing, my old friend

I edited over 20 pages today, which is the most I've edited in a while. I forced myself to sit down in front of my computer all day today. I feel like progress is finally being made. I still have over a hundred pages left to re-edit, but a little bit everyday will eventually get me there.

Once I finish this edit, I will have to reread it since I've made so many changes I am going to have to make sure everything is grammatically correct and makes sense. I'm trying to make this series into a stand alone book, just in case no one is interested in the series, but there's so much in these books that I'm having a difficult time doing that.

Then when everything is fixed I will work on my query letter again. It's nice knowing I can send my letter to Chuck Sambuchino for an edit before sending it to an agent.

What are your writing plans?

I'm back!

It’s been a great week with my mom, but now it’s time to join reality again. I haven’t written in a week because I wanted to give her my undivided attention. It was hard to give up a whole week of writing, but I’m happy to say things are back to normal. I will have a new part of the short story for you to read on Sunday.

For all of you who participated in the ROAK Blitz! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. Congratulations to Becca and Angela on their Emotion Thesaurus. I am enjoying reading it. I will post a review later, so all you writers will know what I am talking about.

Now I really need to get back to writing and editing.

Random Act Of Kindness BLITZ!

A smile. An encouraging word. A thoughtful gesture. Each day people interact with us, help, and make our day a bit brighter and full. This is especially true in the Writing Community. 

Take a second to think about writers you know, like the critique partner who works with you to improve your manuscript. The writing friend who listens, supports and keeps you strong when times are tough. The author who generously offers council, advice and inspiration when asked.

So many people take the time to make us feel special, don't they? They comment on our blogs, re-tweet our posts, chat with us on forums and wish us Happy Birthday on Facebook.

Kindness ROCKS!

To commemorate the release of their book The Emotion Thesaurus, Becca and Angela at The Bookshelf Muse are hosting a TITANIC Random Act Of Kindness BLITZ. And because I think KINDNESS is contagious, I'm participating too!

I am randomly picking Nova Ren Suma, author of Imaginary Girls. From giving me great new debuts to read to letting me know that I am not alone with her Writer's Turning Points series, her blog is always a pleasure to read. Nova, for my RAOK gift, the only thing I feel like I can offer you in return is to purchase a copy of each of your books as a way to say thank you for writing such a great blog! 

I really appreciate Nova, who blogs  at 99distractions (http://distraction99.com/). If you have a minute, please stop in and tell her how awesome she is!

Do you know someone special that you'd like to randomly acknowledge? Don't be shy--come join us and celebrate! Send them an email, give them a shout out, or show your appreciation in another way. Kindness makes the world go round. :)

Becca and Angela have a special RAOK gift waiting for you as well, so hop on over to The Bookshelf Muse to pick it up.

Have you ever participated in or been the recipient of a Random Act Of Kindness?  Let me know in the comments!

Short Story Sunday

I’ve always wondered what makes a person go mad. Now I know the answer and I wish to God I didn’t. After watching my momma drink her life away every night after my daddy left us, I told myself that could never happen to me. If I only knew one day I would eat those words. So what makes a person go insane; love does or rather the loss of love. At only eighteen years old, the loss of my first love turned me into a mad woman.

“We’re done.” That voice once so loving and full of warmth now sounded cruel and cold. No explanation just those heart-wrenching words.

My response stuck as thick sobs clogged my throat. My mind tried to comprehend what his words meant. We’re done. As in we’re over? It was only supposed to be a break. He said by Monday everything would be back to normal. We would be back to normal.

“Is there someone else?”

“No. But if there were I wouldn’t tell you.” Again that cruel, cold voice answered me. What am I supposed to think? Of course there’s another girl. That must be the reason the perfect couple that was us is now pieces in the form of my heart scattered on the floor.

Silence.

“We can still be friends.” Friends? We were passion. We were soul mates. We were a freaking love story that would go down in the history books and now we were—friends?  

“Okay. Sure. We’re friends.”

Two hours later I’m chugging my first bottle of Malibu, desperately trying to forget him for just a few hours.  I knew better than to drown my sorrows in alcohol, but at that moment I didn’t care. I stole the bottle from mom’s secret stash in her closet. Using an empty shoebox to hide your liquor isn’t very creative.  I felt like I needed to teach her that lesson. As I continued to drink my vision blurred and the room spun around me, but his face still haunted me. How do you just forget about someone who’s been a part of your life for the past three years? You don’t.  That would be like losing an arm and pretending you didn’t feel the missing appendage. It was a part of you. You don’t get over losing a part of yourself in a day. It takes time and therapy; in my case self-medicating with the rum bottle until I passed out.

I woke the next morning with someone grabbing onto my shirt collar and violently shaking me.

“Lexi wake up!” I opened my eyes to see my mother’s face in mine. When she noticed my eyes opened, she stepped back and picked something up off the floor. “Did you drink some of my liquor last night?” She held the empty Malibu bottle in her hand.

My head pounded and the sun silhouetting her in light hurt my eyes. “If you didn’t want me to drink any of your alcohol then maybe you should hide it better.”

“Don’t get smart with me. I outta whip your butt for stealing from me.”

“Lay a hand on me and see how long I stick around to take care of you,” I threatened. Momma was hopeless without me and she knew it.

“Get up and go replace the bottle you stole from me.”

I chuckled as I covered my eyes with my hand. “I’m underage. No one is going to sell alcohol to me.”

“You should have thought of that when you decided to steal from me.”

Sitting up I took in momma’s appearance. Her dark hair hung in strands around her face. Her blue eye shadow smudged around her puffy eyes. Her black slip dress had some kind of white stain on the hemline. No wonder she just now came into my room, she was out all night at the bar.

“Tell you what momma, when you stop spending our bill money at the bar then I will replace your alcohol.” Momma stared at me in surprise for a moment then she waved her hands at me as if I wasn’t worth the argument as she walked away. I listened to her footsteps until I heard her bedroom door close. After drinking a couple more beers, she would sleep the rest of the day.

It took me a moment to remember why my insides felt like they were scooped out with a spoon.  For the first time I could sympathize with how momma felt when daddy left. I’m surprised she didn’t laugh in my face and joke about me no longer being perfect. For all the lectures I ever gave her about drinking; I turned into a hypocrite overnight, but I didn’t care. Hollow, empty, and numb; that’s all I felt.

It's not so black and white

Sorry I haven't written a post in a few days. I told you before a lot of good books came out in May, so I might disappear. I went into my reading cave while I read City of Lost Souls by Cassandra Clare. As always, I loved it!

Cassandra does a great job reaching into the darkest parts of our psyche. I love books that make you question what is good and what is bad because I don't believe everything is black or white. There are many shades of gray, which I hope to show in my own writing. I want to show that even the "good" characters have the capacity to be "bad." I also want to show how far some people are willing to go to protect the ones they love. I've been rewriting my novel and these are some of the points that I hope show through.

In other news:

I have a special post scheduled for Monday. You will not want to miss it! I can't say anything else about it, but you should definitely stop by to check it out.

My mom arrives tomorrow and she will be here for a week, so I will probably be absent for the next week. I want to spend as much time with her as possible since I don't know when I will see her again. I wish all you mothers a Happy Mother's Day!  

Short Story Sunday

It’s short story Sunday again. The Last week’s paragraph is reprinted first then the new stuff is in italics. Every week I will continue to add to it. Enjoy!

I’ve always wondered what makes a person go mad. Now I know the answer and I wish to God I didn’t. After watching my momma drink her life away every night after my daddy left us, I told myself that could never happen to me. If I only knew one day I would eat those words. So what makes a person go insane; love does or rather the loss of love. At only eighteen years old, the loss of my first love turned me into a mad woman.

“We’re done.” That voice once so loving and full of warmth now sounded cruel and cold. No explanation just those heart-wrenching words.

My response stuck as thick sobs clogged my throat. My mind tried to comprehend what his words meant. We’re done. As in we’re over? It was only supposed to be a break. He said by Monday everything would be back to normal. We would be back to normal.

“Is there someone else?”

“No. But if there were I wouldn’t tell you.” Again that cruel, cold voice answered me. What am I supposed to think? Of course there’s another girl. That must be the reason the perfect couple that was us is now pieces in the form of my heart scattered on the floor.
Silence.

“We can still be friends.” Friends? We were passion. We were soul mates. We were a freaking love story that would go down in the history books and now we were—friends?  

“Okay. Sure. We’re friends.”

Creativity flows

When I wrote the first draft of my novel, somewhere along the way the ideas started flowing and the story practically wrote itself. During my past edits I didn’t have that happen. I drudged through it. Last night that changed.

The ideas started flowing once again and the novel is once again driving me in a direction I didn’t see before. I love that feeling. I missed that feeling. It’s different this time because everything has to connect to the rest of the story, so it requires more time and more thought. Like fitting pieces of a puzzle together. Cross my fingers everything will fit perfectly once I finish this major rewrite.

Have you had any great ideas come to you recently?