Monday, September 28, 2009
Illness
I hate being sick. Honestly, I feel so utterly useless. Instead of being grateful I have a husband who is keeping the house going, a mother to do my laundry and a wonderful daughter to wait on me, I am lamenting the fact that I am stuck in bed, unable to talk because of a sore throat and unable to move because of a splitting headache. It's not as if I am using this downtime productively. I could be writing or editing or even writing that article that is due, but I am not. And to top it all off, I feel guilty about the people I interacted with yesterday that I could have exposed to this flu. See that is the problem with a mind which has time to ponder life. What is that saying? Idleness is the devil's workshop. Or something like that. Funny how it takes being sick to write in my blog.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Teaser Tuesday
Good morning,
Time for Teaser Tuesday!! I have a scene from my WIP (work in progress) which currently has 5,000 words. It is written in 1st person, male POV (point of view). It's not what I usually write. My friend asked me last Friday night how I come up with stuff because I've never been abused or raped, we were discussing and adult SNI (shiny new idea) and my husband told her I just have a sick mind. Yeah, that's probably it.
I take my supplies to the bloody spot on the floor and peel off a handful of paper towels. I mop up the majority of the blood. I pour the water on and scrub the rest with the rag. I ring out the rag in the now empty bowl. It fills with pinkish water. I continue: scrub, wipe, ring out, over and over until all of the blood is gone.
The back door opens and Dr. Lewis comes quietly in. He knows the routine. I also think he prefers to avoid my father. As I said before, I don’t know what he owes my father. Dr. Burton has been taking care of me since I was seven years old. That is when my mom left. Just up and disappeared one day. The next day was the first time my father hit me. And that night, Doc came by the house and taped up my ribs. Doc’s voice brings me out of my reverie.
“Jefferson, you look bad, son. Come sit in the chair and let me look at you,” he says. I love to listen to Doc’s voice. It reminds me of that actor, Morgan Freeman.
“What happened,” he whispers close to my ear. “I don’t mean with Judge, but what did he hurt?”
I get up off the floor and gather my supplies. Dr.Burton watches me stumble to the sink, rinse the bowl, and load it in the dishwasher. I put the rag and paper towels in the trash. Oh shit, I’m going to be sick again. I turn on the water and garbage disposer to hide the sound as I puke into the sink. I rinse my face and then mouth and turn around to face Dr. Burton. The whole room tilts and I grab the counter to steady myself.
Dr. Burton looks at me. I can tell he wants to help. His knuckles have turned white from clutching his doctor bag so hard. And that is a strange thing to see: A black man turning white. But I know he won’t help because he learned his lesson the one and only time he tried.
Time for Teaser Tuesday!! I have a scene from my WIP (work in progress) which currently has 5,000 words. It is written in 1st person, male POV (point of view). It's not what I usually write. My friend asked me last Friday night how I come up with stuff because I've never been abused or raped, we were discussing and adult SNI (shiny new idea) and my husband told her I just have a sick mind. Yeah, that's probably it.
I take my supplies to the bloody spot on the floor and peel off a handful of paper towels. I mop up the majority of the blood. I pour the water on and scrub the rest with the rag. I ring out the rag in the now empty bowl. It fills with pinkish water. I continue: scrub, wipe, ring out, over and over until all of the blood is gone.
The back door opens and Dr. Lewis comes quietly in. He knows the routine. I also think he prefers to avoid my father. As I said before, I don’t know what he owes my father. Dr. Burton has been taking care of me since I was seven years old. That is when my mom left. Just up and disappeared one day. The next day was the first time my father hit me. And that night, Doc came by the house and taped up my ribs. Doc’s voice brings me out of my reverie.
“Jefferson, you look bad, son. Come sit in the chair and let me look at you,” he says. I love to listen to Doc’s voice. It reminds me of that actor, Morgan Freeman.
“What happened,” he whispers close to my ear. “I don’t mean with Judge, but what did he hurt?”
I get up off the floor and gather my supplies. Dr.Burton watches me stumble to the sink, rinse the bowl, and load it in the dishwasher. I put the rag and paper towels in the trash. Oh shit, I’m going to be sick again. I turn on the water and garbage disposer to hide the sound as I puke into the sink. I rinse my face and then mouth and turn around to face Dr. Burton. The whole room tilts and I grab the counter to steady myself.
Dr. Burton looks at me. I can tell he wants to help. His knuckles have turned white from clutching his doctor bag so hard. And that is a strange thing to see: A black man turning white. But I know he won’t help because he learned his lesson the one and only time he tried.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
The Meadow's Journey
Good morning. Someone asked me about the journey of my MS, so here it is.
I had a dream. I know, so trite but true.
Saturday morning I got up and typed all day. When I finished I had a short story on the computer titled, The Meadow. I e-mailed it to a couple of friends for their input and was told it was really good and unique so I decided to finish my character's stories. The back story came very easily. I started writing in two places: the continuation after the meadow and the beginning. I know it is a strange way to write but that is me: strange, actually I'm a little backwards. I honestly think when my mom dropped me on my head as a baby it scrambled my brain a tiny bit...my husband would disagree. He would say it scrambled it a lot.
I let my wonderful piano student, Amanda, have it before I had the two parts connected <----oooh, passive voice, bad Jennifer!! Ha! Anyway, it forced me to write and finish the first part. That was exciting to see the whole thing put together. I got stuck many times. On the way to California, I had an epiphany and figured out an important part of the story. I typed non-stop on that plane. On the way home, I was excited. I got out my wonderful MacBook (I looove my Mac and have withdrawal if I am away from it for too long) and waited for the next part of my story. Ten minutes later - still waiting. Ten minutes later - still waiting. Two screwdrivers later - still waiting. I was frustrated. During those stuck, frustrated times I went back to the beginning and revised. I revised and edited the entire time I was finishing the MS so it wasn't a daunting task once the book was finished.
I wanted to write something with strong characters, life decisions and adventure that my daughter could read but I have language and boy/girl relationships so my genre became Young Adult. After 45,000 words I realized I still had a lot of story to tell so I wrapped up The Meadow at 51,000 words. I am currently working on the sequel tentatively titled: The River.
Guess that's all for now. I have a family to get back to. I will write more about the journey at a later time.
I had a dream. I know, so trite but true.
Saturday morning I got up and typed all day. When I finished I had a short story on the computer titled, The Meadow. I e-mailed it to a couple of friends for their input and was told it was really good and unique so I decided to finish my character's stories. The back story came very easily. I started writing in two places: the continuation after the meadow and the beginning. I know it is a strange way to write but that is me: strange, actually I'm a little backwards. I honestly think when my mom dropped me on my head as a baby it scrambled my brain a tiny bit...my husband would disagree. He would say it scrambled it a lot.
I let my wonderful piano student, Amanda, have it before I had the two parts connected <----oooh, passive voice, bad Jennifer!! Ha! Anyway, it forced me to write and finish the first part. That was exciting to see the whole thing put together. I got stuck many times. On the way to California, I had an epiphany and figured out an important part of the story. I typed non-stop on that plane. On the way home, I was excited. I got out my wonderful MacBook (I looove my Mac and have withdrawal if I am away from it for too long) and waited for the next part of my story. Ten minutes later - still waiting. Ten minutes later - still waiting. Two screwdrivers later - still waiting. I was frustrated. During those stuck, frustrated times I went back to the beginning and revised. I revised and edited the entire time I was finishing the MS so it wasn't a daunting task once the book was finished.
I wanted to write something with strong characters, life decisions and adventure that my daughter could read but I have language and boy/girl relationships so my genre became Young Adult. After 45,000 words I realized I still had a lot of story to tell so I wrapped up The Meadow at 51,000 words. I am currently working on the sequel tentatively titled: The River.
Guess that's all for now. I have a family to get back to. I will write more about the journey at a later time.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Teaser Tuesday
Wow, I finally have a blog. I have been reading blogs of my cyber-friends over at AW and they do a thing called Teaser Tuesday. It is an excerpt from one of their books, so below is an excerpt from my book, The Meadow which is a YA paranormal/fantasy. I will get this blog up and going soon so while I do that, enjoy.
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