Monday, November 18, 2013

Week Two Blue, Week Three Glee

So I am not going to beat around the bush, but dive in and tell you that Week Two of National Novel Writing Month had me thinking I would never meet this crazy goal. I missed like three days of writing (which in NANO terms is like six thousand words) and I seriously didn't think I would get back on track.  I had submitted the first portion to my critique group, and Tuesday night I got their feedback.  And feedback creates mental changes to the manuscript, and changes transform me into a raging, raving edit-aholic.  I was fighting my inner editor so bad, it took all my will power not to start reading my manuscript from the beginning and rewrite, brutally thrashing the words I had already claimed.

Flash forward to Saturday.  I told myself it as time for a marathon. With my NANO support group and MLs, I pushed hard for 6000 words. I only made it to 3500, but that made me more determined to write on Sunday, which I did even though my entire family managed to contract some sort of bug that had us coughing and sniffling for our very sanity.

Then I awoke today.  Today was a big day. Not only did Week Three of NANO start with updates on the website, words of encouragement via the posts, but I finally wrote a scene so alive and clear in my mind, that I simply couldn't stop writing. Well, until my husband asked me to, begging for a respite together before the boob tube.

So now I am all caught up and reignited to pump out those words, jump start my creative juices, and breath life back into my story. And of course, I have to share a tidbit with you, my favorite scene in a while. So enjoy, and please don't be afraid to comment below!

             The tinkling of the bells on the door handle made Larry look up from the counter.  “Well, hello there Dominic! And how can I help you today?”
            “I need a birthday gift for a girl,” I stated with as much adult like posture as possible.
            Larry’s thick mustache arched into a grin, and he winked at me.  “What did you have in mind?  We have stuffed animals, some nice puzzles back there. Or maybe a doll?”
            I moved to the counter and said, “Actually, I have eighty dollars to spend.”  I smirked at his reaction, a wide-eyed response.  “I was thinking some jewelry, or maybe some CDs.”
            Larry ruffled himself back to normal, reminding me of an owl.  He held his hand out to the counter to his right and said, “Over here is most of our jewelry in that price range, and that case,” he pointed to a tall upright glass case at the front of one aisle, “Also has some nice pieces.  Just let me know if you want to see anything in particular.”
            I walked over to the taller case and looked at rows and rows of earrings, necklaces, pins, and rings.  A lot of them seemed like something Grandma would wear, big and bulky and flowery.  Nothing reminded me of Emma, not even a little bit.  I began to wonder if maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
I walked back toward the glass counter Larry had indicated and noticed a shelf in one aisle lined with rows and rows of little porcelain jewelry boxes.  One in particular caught my eye.  It was a heart shaped, lacy looking box topped with a couple daisies and a brightly painted purple and yellow butterfly with its wings spread.  And on a stand just behind it were five or six pairs of gold earrings, and one heart shaped pair with two small crystals on each screamed out to me to buy them.
“Perfect!” I muttered.
“I’m sorry, did you say something Dominic?” Larry asked as he rounded the corner, a shoe box in hand.
“Yes, I found the gift I want to buy. How much is this box and those earrings?” I asked, pointing to them.
“The earrings are twenty five, the box is fifteen, so somewhere around forty dollars all together.”
“Can you wrap them for me?”
“Sure can,” Larry replied, smiling.  He picked them up and headed behind the counter and to the far side where his wrapper and tape sat ready to do their jobs.  He dug through a pile of boxes, looking for one just about the right size and settle on a .22 shell box, which he lined with lots of tissue paper.  He placed the earrings in the butterfly box, then nestled the treasure into the ammo box.
I watched all this from the front counter by the cash register. I looked at all the little things hanging and stacked close by, and saw a King Size Cookies and Crème Hersey’s Bar.  And I remember Emma saying she wasn’t allowed to eat candy or drink soda.
“Excuse me, could you please put this in there too?” I asked Larry, holding the chocolate bar out.  He turned and took it, grinning at me in a knowing way.
“She’s a lucky girl!” he said, fishing hard for some tidbit of gossip.
“No, not lucky. I just gotta get out of the dog house,” I replied all serious and looked down at my shoes.
Larry started hooting really loud, making his mustache dance on his lip.  His shoulders synced with it and his eyes scrunched.  Before long he reminded me of a thinner, more familiar Santa Claus, jiggling and jolly.  He wiped tears from his eyes, and said, “Boy, you were so solemn when you said that, I may just have to give you a discount.”

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