Tuesday, May 28, 2013

a teaser, a milestone, and a huge mistake.

I feel silly saying this, but did you know I only came up with the idea to write a book in January? Only 5 months ago. And now here it is, budding at my fingertips and slamming its way onto the keyboard keystroke by keystroke. Ok, I'm being slightly melodramatic. But, it's for a reason. I have a new found appreciation for the book. I know what you're thinking, "Uhm, it's your book, shouldn't you love it already?" I love it, yes. I love my story, my characters, my deliciously crafted twists. But today I have a new love for it. A love that one can only have after they've lost something and it comes back to them. Lost you say? Tell us more! Oh yes, lost. Somehow my computer illiterate and semi-malfunctioning on little sleep self managed to delete an entire chunk of the story yesterday. I was heart broken, I screamed, I had tears in my eyes. Then I slammed my forehead on the keyboard, and I sh-t you not the whole thing reappeared. Ok, I'm slightly exaggerating, I think I must have managed to hit the shortcut key for undo with my large forehead.

It was an eyeopener. An experience of my first ever Writer's Lament. I thought I had lost a tiny piece of my soul. It seems I've grown incredibly attached to my story over the last few months. More so in the last weeks now that I've actually been sitting down to write it. Anyways, since I can't rely on a forehead slam every time I make a stupid mistake, I decided to do what all experienced writers do ... use Dropbox like I own the b*tch. If you aren't familiar with this program, it's essentially online cloud storage. Similar to iCloud but less ... sketchy. It's super Apple friendly, it linked my MacBook directly, my iPhone and my iPad. It saves the master file right to the folder in your online storage, so if you mess up, have no fear, Dropbox has the last 17,392 versions you've had since it saves a different layered copy every time you hit the little floppy disk save button. Life lesson, equals learned.

So with this great malfunction of twenty thirteen I managed to completely miss a huge milestone for me. I have written over 10,000 words. TEN. THOUSAND. Ok, to writers reading this, or people that don't know their a-- from their elbows, that may not seem like a lot to you. BUT THIS IS HUGE FOR ME. I don't think I've ever written 30 pages or 10, 000 words in my entire academic career COMBINED. I feel a victory dance coming on. Hold on, be right back. Alright, that was awesome, and well deserved.

Anyways, I celebrate my birthday this week! My mom and dad are awesome. They have like 8 kids between them (no joke, we can talk about that another time though) so sometimes birthdays just kind of get lost. But, my mom, being awesome. Decided she was going to get me my first real desk. A writers desk. I'm official.

Isn't she a b'yoot? *Dreamy Sigh*. Gotta love Ikea...

So, with all these crazy happenings, I thought I'd give you an unedited teaser. This is Jackson's POV (point of view) and it's probably one of my favorite scenes with him and Penny so far. They have just started to hang out and are on their way to a party ... enjoy! (and don't forget to read chapter one here!)

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Jackson
           
            She made small talk look good. She laughed at my stupid jokes, and quirked an eyebrow when I made comments about her being the prettiest girl in the restaurant tonight.

“Boy, you sure lay it on thick.” She shook her head and laughed toward the open window.

Maybe I was, I didn’t want her to feel cheap. I wanted to tell her I was nervous, but truthfully I had a feeling she had a thing for Boone and I wanted to look more like a man and less like a pussy driving a beat up Jeep Wrangler as we followed Boone’s lifted Chevy C-10 pickup. Every time he revved forward the vibrations of his truck reverberated through the Jeep making my manhood grow a size smaller.

“Naw, just want a pretty girl to feel appreciated.” Ok, Jack, don’t listen to yourself or anything; keep laying it on thick like an asshat. 

I reached over her lap and dropped down the glove box; fishing around for the pack of gum I knew I had thrown in there. “Can I get this for you, please? You’re going to kill us.” She put her hands over mine and pushed me away. Her hands felt small and warm, but her grip was fierce. It instantly made me imagine her hands elsewhere.

“Thanks.” I couldn’t look at her as she handed me the piece of gum, putting one in her mouth also. It had been so long, I was sure if I caught her glance the wrong way in my direction I’d end up springing attention right here in the car. “So where do you go to school?” I decided to change the topic to something so far from sexual it would take a miracle to relate it back.

“I don’t right now. I took a year off. I was going to the community college for Human Sexuality, though.” She looked at me and I could feel my mouth dropping lower as she spoke. “I want to be a Sex Ed teacher eventually.” How in the fuck is this my life?

“That’s an um, odd,” I paused with question not wanting to offend her “vocation choice.”

She nodded. “Yeah, but, there’s too much teen pregnancy and I know most of it is teachers going at it in a most archaic way. Kids don’t relate to movies and putting a condom on a banana anymore.”

I choked on my excess saliva from the gum chewing.

“Yeah, well I understand where you’re coming from, but you think you really wanna teach all those kids The Way of the Warriors?” I hope she got my sperm joke.

“Someone has to teach them, Jackson. I’m not saying I’ll be the Mother Theresa of sexual indemnity. But, I hope to at least help them understand it’s ok to love someone and still say safe.”  I couldn’t take my eyes off her, she was surprising me I hadn’t expected this from her.

“JACKSON!” she yelled and my eyes whipped forward as we almost crashed into the back of the gigantic pick up truck.

I slammed on the brakes. Boone had slowed down to find parking on Duncan’s packed suburban street. “FUCK!” I reached across and slammed my right forearm into her chest. “Sorry!” I pulled in behind Boone in the line of parked cars. “I’m sorry you distracted me.” Better be honest from the starting gate, Jackson. I stared at her still breathing a little heavier from the adrenaline.

She looked back at me, calm as a cucumber. “Its just sex, Jackson,” she climbed down from the Jeep, turning back, looking at me with soft eyes and a hard smirk “don’t be distracted by it.”

Oh, but I was. 

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Thanks for reading, see you next milestone (or mistake)! 

xo,
     ea w

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