My first novel, the one that has taken me nearly two and a half years to write, is finally being read by actual people for the first time! And by actual people, I mean someone who is not me. Of course, directly after I sent it out to my wonderful beta readers I started re-reading it again and found it lacking in SOO many areas. Apparently I have learned a lot since starting my third edit and finishing it. And I’ve started getting feedback which is awesome and amazing and a bit soul crushing to think of how much work that novel still has left. Continue reading
Someone told me recently that Bill Murrary’s character in Groundhog Day (a movie that I could watch over and over) was supposed to have spent 10,000 years repeating the same day. This supposedly is based on a Hindu (?) idea that it takes 10,000 years to perfect a soul. (This could all be verifiable with a simple Google search, but its validity is beside the point for this blog post.)
10,000 years. Of repeating the same damn day. I would go crazy several times over. I literally cannot even imagine how long that is. Poor Bill Murray.
When I was in a young teenager I desperately wanted to be a vampire. So much so that I wore a garnet necklace with a false back around my neck with a note tucked inside that read Dear Vampire – please drink my blood and make me a vampire like you. Thanks! (Or something to that effect.) My desire stemmed less from an urge to drink blood and more from a want to never grow old, to live forever. And to hang out with Tom Cruise and Brad Pitt. I could add Jared Leto but I didn’t realize he was a vampire until very recently. There is no other explanation for his supernatural skin. How can he look the same in his mid-40s as he did when I watched him with angsty googly eyes in middle school. See? Vampire – a day walking one for sure. Has anyone seen him in direct sunlight? I wonder if he sparkles like Edward Cullen…
Anyway I officially take back my request dear vampire. I couldn’t stand eternal life I think. I need deadlines (no pun intended) to drive me forward. If I had all the time in the world what would be the motivation to complete anything? Although, having a body not subject to the whims of gravity would be alright I suppose… But at what cost?
…this is a really weird post. I must stop waking up in the middle of the night to write my blog.
New short story available on Describli.com These are a bit addictive as I can write one off in such a short time — sigh. I am so easily distracted! Anyway teaser below. Perhaps I should collect these here too for easier reading. Thoughts?
An Open Book (prompt – Much Needed Advice)
I shifted slightly on the couch, aware of every movement I made. I could feel my joints occupying too much space and I knew space was what she needed right now. She needed to come to me, although it took everything I had not to make the first move.
“Yes?” I said, too quickly, too eager.
She shot me a quizzical look. “Can we change the channel? They’ve already played these stories.”
“Oh,” I replied, trying to not let the disappointment show. She was right though, the news was now repeating the same segment on a local street fair this weekend. I had not been paying attention really. “Sure. Here, why don’t you take the remote?” I tossed it over and she caught it with one hand, a practiced move. “Do you want a snack or anything?” I was getting antsy waiting for her to ask. I needed to get up, to move.
I was not really hungry. I got up anyway and wandered down the hallway, pausing to look at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. The bright light from the window accentuated the grooves on the side of my mouth. I stretched my skin back towards my ears, simultaneously wondering if I should get Botox and how I had gotten so old. I let my face fall back. Somehow the skin seemed looser than it had a moment ago. I hope I hadn’t done permanent damage. I looked past my reflection to the mirrored image of Rebecca’s room behind me. Her door was open wide to her room. Sunlight, filtered through gauzy curtains, highlighted the tossed remnants of childhood buried like sediment under the cheap makeup and the garish accoutrements of a young teen. It was open like that yesterday too. Only it was different.