I wrote today!

Not a lot, just shy of 2K words, but it was something. I'm now at 17,072.

And the break was good for my head. I figured out where I want this thing to go...

Jeanie, who obviously has a drinking problem, is ***SPOILER ALERT*** going to have a big blow-up at Tiny's bar, steal Aileen's keys, and get into an accident.

Don't worry, she doesn't die (and neither does anyone else). But it will be a huge wake-up call for her - and Aileen - as they will both learn something very important about themselves and relationships in general. Jeanie will have to face the consequences of her actions - as will Aileen (that I won't spoil for you - yet).

I thought that this would be the end of the novel, but after I'm done I'll probably still be 10-15K short. So I may have to add in another conflict. We'll see.

I have finally started to connect with my characters in a way that makes me really want to finish this project, instead of finishing out of a sense of obligation. It was Jeanie's accident that did it. I felt like I couldn't just leave her there, that she really needed help. When I finally started to see my characters as people, and not just figments of my imagination, then I became much more invested in their well-being. Funny how that works, isn't it?

Here is what I wrote today (I have not re-read since I wrote it, this is raw). It takes place in the last half of the book, so far beyond what I've posted so far.

----------

            We decided that it was best if we left separately. Although anyone paying attention could have put two and two together. Luckily for us, the bar was still reeling from Jeanie’s grand exit and no one was paying much attention to us. No one except Tiny.

            I walked out first and made my way to the bar where Tiny caught my eye.

            “Drink?” he asked, with one eyebrow raised.

            I just nodded. I didn’t trust myself to talk without blurting out what had just happened and I didn’t want to pile one more drama to what was already a dramatic evening.

            Tiny performed his magic behind the bar. He put four or five different liquids into a tumbler with ice, shook it, and poured it into a tall glass. It was pink and it was delicious.

            “So,” he said, after I nodded my approval. “How was it?”

            “Delicious,” I said, “I don’t know what you put in in, but I love it.”

            He smiled at me, “that’s not what I meant.”

            I blushed and turned away. Damn him, I thought, how the hell does he always KNOW everything?

            “You don’t have to say anything,” he grinned, “I just got the conformation I was looking for. Enjoy the drink, I’ll be back later.” And he moved on to the other side of the bar where Alex, Jennifer, and some of the other burlesque dancers were standing.

            I sighed and took another sip. What was I going to do about Jeanie? About Christian? I suddenly felt exhausted.

            Christian appeared behind the bar, reached for my hand, and squeezed it. I squeezed back.

            “You ok?” he looked concerned. I guess I looked as tired as I felt.

            “Yeah, I’m just tired I think,” I replied with a half smile. “And a little upset and confused I guess. It’s all hard to sort out.”

            “I hope you’re not upset about what happened in the storage room,” he said quickly, concerned.

            “No, no,” I reassured him. “I’m not upset about that or upset with you. It’s just… well, it’s just Jeanie.”

            “I know,” he shook his head. “I’m worried too. But there’s nothing we can do right now. Maybe she’ll have  calmed down by tomorrow and we can talk to her.”

            “Yeah, you’re right. I should just try and enjoy the rest of the night. Someone did call a cab for her, right?”
            “I think so, I’ll go check with Tiny.” He squeezed my hand one more time and then made his way over to where Tiny was making a round of the same pink drink for the burlesque dancers.

            I turned back toward my drink and took a few more sips. I should check my phone, I thought to myself, maybe she’s sent me a text message. I doubted it, but she might have cooled down or sobered up enough to at least let me know she made it home ok. Even though she had just made a complete ass of herself, and embarrassed me in front of dozens of people, I was still worried about her. She was just… well, Jeanie. Immature, yes. Exasperating, definitely. But she had been my best friend for over five years and I loved her, I just couldn’t let go of that in one night.

            I got up and grabbed my purse from behind the DJ’s booth. I sat back down and pulled my phone out of my purse. No texts. No missed calls. Nothing. I sighed, disappointed, but not surprised.

            Christian and Tiny reappeared in front of me, both men looked worried.

            “A cab was called,” Tiny spoke first. “But the cab driver just came in and said that he’s been waiting outside for over 15 minutes and no one’s showed up.”

            I looked at Christian; my stomach was starting to knot up.

            “I’m going to drive around the block,” he said, sensing my concern, “I bet I’ll find her walking toward Fair Oaks. Can I me borrow your keys, my car’s in the shop.”

            “Sure,” I said, rifling through my purse. No keys. “I can’t find my keys.” The knot in my stomach grew larger. I had my keys and Jeanie when I walked in, Jeanie is now gone and so are my keys. Coincidence? I think not.

            “I think she took my car,” it was barely more than a whisper and I felt sick just saying it. She had been so, so drunk. Oh please please please let it not be true. Please let her be ok. Please let her have been pulled over and hauled off to the drunk tank and not smashed against a tree. Please please please. I though to myself as I handed my purse to Christian and squeezed my eyes shut.

            He checked my purse. No keys.

            I got up wordlessly and walked toward the exit. Christian and Tiny joined me. Tiny shouted to the third bartender: “Meagan, the bar is yours, we’ll be right back.”

            Alex gave us a look as we walked past and Tiny tersely shook his head as if to say bad news. She joined us.

            The air outside was crisp and cold. I shivered and Christian put his arms around me. My car was gone. I had parked on the side of the bar, not quite close enough for the bouncers to see it from their posts at the front door. Two parking spots closer and they would have clearly seen Jeanie get in the car. I’m sure they would have stopped her. I wished they had stopped her anyway.

            “It’s gone.” My voice was surprisingly strong. I felt like collapsing, but at least I sounded like I was in control. “She must have taken it.”

            “Hopefully she got pulled over on Fair Oaks,” Tiny replied, turning towards me, “she has to pass that way to get home and they’re almost always out this time of night. She’s probably in the back of a police car or sobering up in the drunk tank right now.” His confidence was infectious.

            “We can call CHP,” Alex suggested. “And I’m sure she’ll call Tiny or myself to come bail her out.” Alex’s eyes widened as she took in the sight of Christian’s arms around me. Thankfully she didn’t say anything; I don’t think I was quite ready for that conversation.

            My phone rang. Oh thank goodness, I thought to myself. It’s Jeanie; she’s calling to tell me she’s ok or needs to be bailed out.

            “It’s Jeanie,” I said as I pulled my phone out of my pocket. A smiling picture of her greeted me and I swiped to answer.

            “Hello? Jeanie? Are you ok?” I asked in quick succession.

            “Ma’am, this is Officer Flemming,” a male voice replied. My heart sank. A police officer wouldn’t be calling to tell me Jeanie needed to be bailed out of jail. An officer wouldn’t call to tell me she was home safe. Office Flemming continued, “this number was listed as the ‘In Case of Emergency’ number in the victim’s phone. May I get your name please?”

            Victim? Oh sweet Sons of Anarchy, I thought to myself, this is not happening.

            “My name is Aileen. Aileen Greer,” I told the officer, “I’m Jeanie’s best friend.”

            Christian, Alex, and Tiny’s faces were a wall of concern. What’s going on? Christian mouthed. I don’t know I mouthed back and turned away from the three of them. I needed to focus on the phone and I didn’t think I could handle looking at the three of them at the same time.

            “Well Ms. Greer, Miss Robinson has been in an accident. It appears as though she was driving under the influence when she hit a parked car…”

            “Is she ok?” I interrupted.

            “She’s being transported to Memorial Hospital on Independence. I do not know the extent of her injuries. Do you have a number for a family member?”

            “Yeah, I have her mother’s number. But she’s all the way out in Montana. I’m the only one she has that’s close. I think she was driving my car too, it’s a light blue Honda Civic.”

            “That does fit the description of the vehicle at the scene. Did you give Ms. Robinson permission to use your vehicle? Did you know she was intoxicated?”

            “No and yes. I knew she was drunk, but I didn’t let her use my car. We called her a cab but she must have decided not to wait.”

            “Who is “we” ma’am?”

            “Our friends, we were all at Speakeasy on Fair Oaks for a friend’s show. She got upset, we had an argument, and she left. I went into another part of the bar and… to get away… and when I came back into the room she had left. When I realized my keys were gone she’d been gone for over a half an hour.”

            “Would you like to press charges for the theft of your vehicle?” he asked.

            Press charges? Oh good gracious.

            “Um, no? I don’t know. I’m sorry, I’m just a little in shock.”

            Ok, well I may have some more questions for you later. I have your number now.”

            “Yeah, any questions you have… was there anyone else in the car or in the parked car? She didn’t hurt anyone, did she?”

            “Fortunately no one else was involved, although it does look as though both cars are totaled. If she had drifted into the other lane it would have been a different story.”

            I sighed in relief. At least no one else was involved. I hoped my insurance would cover to replace the car, but no amount of insurance money would replace a life. I hoped she was going to be ok, because I was going to kill her for driving drunk.

            “I’ll be in touch,” Officer Flemming said.

            “Thank you Officer,” I replied as I hung up and turned toward my three friends.

Slump

I'm in a slump, evidenced by the fact that I'm writing this post instead of anything for the novel.

I can blame it on a lot of things, but the real reason is that I'm just exhausted and I way overreached when taking on this rather ambitious project.

That isn't to say I'm stopping, because I will finish this novel. I just don't think it's realistic for me to finish in the month of November. This week is Thanksgiving, next week I'm giving Benchmarks to my students, and then the month is over. The first weekend in December is the girl-child's 4th birthday and then it's finals and grading is due. Then winter break.

So writing lands on my low list of priorities... and did I mention I have homework? Like, my own teacher homework? This is thankfully my last year in BTSA (if you really want to know what it is, google it. The basics: it sucks). I really do have too many things up in the air...

I'm hoping to find time to write Wednesday in between pies (that's my Thanksgiving task). I'm also hoping to devote a good amount of time over winter break to writing. We have to pay for daycare regardless, and so I'll keep the kids in daycare for a few days and spend some time writing, lesson planning, and cleaning (isn't my life exciting?).

But this writing is hard work, without any real immediate return. While I don't expect everything I do to have instant gratification, I didn't really expect <i>nothing</i>. There's not much motivating me to write instead of, say, watch The Big Bang Theory. There's no pull to continue the story when I'm not really emotionally connected to it.

So I'm in a weird spot, where I'm determined to finish because I want to say that I have - and a part of me wants to quit completely because if I'm only doing this for me, then what's the point again? It's not like poetry, where the writing is cathartic. This story, while involving characters that are combinations of people I really know, doesn't hold any pull for me. There's no emotional buy-in from my end. I like Aileen, and I know too many Jeanie's... but... I don't know. I just don't feel like there's a compelling need to finish their story.

I will though. But just not in the month of November.

Maybe this summer I need to write one that I can really connect to.

Of course, it's likely I'll be teaching summer school. No wonder every English teacher is "working on" a novel - we never have time to finish anything as our jobs zap our time, energy, and (sometimes) will to live.

Kidding. Mostly.

I am a terrible writer and should just quit

I don't really mean that.

Well, maybe a little.

 I've written 488 words today and am 10,000 words behind schedule. I don't have enough plot to fill another 10,000 words, let alone the 35,000 I need to get to 50,000. I am tired, I am stressed, I want to be done.

Would you like to hear about my day?

Wake up at 5:45, get ready, feed kids breakfast, kiss kids goodbye
7:00 get to work
7:15 staff meeting
8:00 start work
10:00 lock my classroom, run to the staff bathroom and pee for the first time
12:04 eat lunch while giving kids make-up tests, grade conferencing, and answering e-mails
1:40 pee for the second time (which is a minor miracle, usually I only get to pee once a day)
3:00 start after school tutorial
4:00 end after school tutorial, stuff papers in bag, bike home
4:15-5:00 at neighbor's house while our kids play together, plan our kid's 4th birthday parties
5:10 make dinner
5:45 eat dinner
6:00-7:00 play puzzles, get treated like a jungle gym, catch up on twitter (hey, I needed down time).
7:00 baths
7:20 watch Ruby Gloom
7:45 Bryan reads to kids while I fire up the laptop
8:00-10:00 stare forlornly at my novel, eek out 488 words, feel like a failure.
10:03 write a self-pitying blog post and contemplate going to bed I have hit a wall.

According to my nanowrimo pep talker, that usually happens at 25,000 words. *facepalm*

This means I don't have anything new for you, but I do have stuff I wrote last week, so you get that. Maybe if you love it I'll be inspired to write more tomorrow.

            The sun was now high overhead and it was starting to feel like the 7^th level of hell if only because breathing in the corset wasn’t getting any easier. I had been hoping that I would get used to it as the day passed, but I was sorely disappointed. Literally. My ribs felt sore.

            We had made the rounds of the site and I had met more people than I could ever remember. I’d had tea with the Queen (who kept character even when behind the scenes), been serenaded by Shakespeare, had more raw seafood pushed into my face by people Jeanie called “mongers”, and watched the most bawdy puppet show I’d ever seen. Although, in all honesty, it was the only puppet show I’d ever seen. Still, it was pretty bawdy. I hadn’t realized that puppets knew those words. It certainly would have made Elmo blush.

            It was just past 3, and we had been at Faire for almost 4 hours. I had started to realize that the way most of the regulars coped with being stuck in uncomfortable corsets was to drink. The alehouses were doing big business and half of the paid staff had a flask or two on them. Tiny called it “recreational alcoholism.” Even though the booze was free flowing, very few people were drunk. Except Jeanie. She had taken drinking to a whole new level and I was starting to get worried about her. I’d seen her drink before, but never like this.

            “Hey Jeanie,” I said to her as we passed by the beer garden and she had refilled her flask with something Tiny kept behind the counter, “maybe you should slow down a little, it’s only 3. Also, I’m not sure how much longer I can stand being in this thing, when are we leaving?”

            “Oh chill Aiai, is jus’ Faire, evey buddy drinks at Faire,” she slurred. “An I’m not redy ta leave yet. Jus’ have ‘nother round ‘n have fun.”

            I sighed. If I had the keys I would have forced the issue, but she had put them in Christian’s tent shortly after we got to Faire and I didn’t know where he was camped.

            “Fine, we’ll stay. But you’re cut off,” I grabbed her flask.

            “Damn it Aileen, give it back,” she protested, but I was taller and not drunk, so the struggle was a short one. “Fine,” she huffed, “I’ll just go get a drink from Tiny!”

            She stumbled back toward the ale-stand where Tiny was directing a small army. I followed her, annoyed.

            Tiny smiled as we approached and motioned for us to meet him at the “backstage” entrance. The Faire site was set up almost like a giant, oblong donut. The booths in the middle all faced outward and had a separate entrance/exit through the back that lead to a makeshift alleyway where vendors kept various supplies, staff took breaks, and a few tents were set up. There were 2 other entrances to the area, but you had to know where to look as they were quite cleverly disguised. I hadn’t decided if I was going to nickname this place Diagon Alley or the Labyrinth. Diagon Alley was slightly nerdier, but some of the costuming from the Labyrinth worked better. It was at this point that I decided that I needed to get out more.

            Tiny met us in Diagon Alley (it just rolls off the tongue better, I though to myself) and gave Jeanie a hug.

            “Afternoon ladies,” he greeted us, “what can I do for you?”

            “Aileen’s decided to be a party pooper.” She said, holding on to him as much for balance and for affection, “she took away my flask.”

            “Yes, that’s me, the party police,” I replied sarcastically. “Look Jeanie, you can barely stand up straight. You need to take a break.”

            Tiny raised his eyebrows at me and mouth thanks.

            “Let me get you something special Jeanie,” he replied as he helped her sit on a bale of hay. He disappeared into the ale stand and returned with a small hollowed out horn. “Drink this.”

            “What is it?” She asked, reaching for the horn. “Rum?”

            She drank, made a face, and handed it back.

            Tiny let out a belly laugh, “no, it’s water. You’re going to have one hell of a hangover if you don’t drink some more water.”

            Jeanie drunkenly struggled to her feet.

            “Imma big girl. I can handle m’self,” and she turned and walked out of Diagon Alley, leaving Tiny and I alone.

            “I should go get her,” I said, turning toward the exit.

            “No, let her go, she’ll be ok.” Tiny reassured me. “Christian is right outside working the tug-of-war game and she won’t go far without him. She’ll soon forget we were so “mean” to her and come back later. You, sit.” He pointed toward the hay bale that Jeanie had recently vacated.

            I sat. I was hot, uncomfortable, dirty, and exhausted. While parts of the day had been fun, this latest spat with Jeanie had zapped my energy. Tiny handed me the water.

            “Thanks,” I said and drank thirstily. “You’re good at spotting someone in need of hydration.”

            “Well, I own a bar, so I should be by now,” he smiled and sat down on the hay bale across from me.

            “In town?” I asked. While I wasn’t exactly a bar-fly, I had been to a lot of the bars in towns for occasional shows or girls nights out and I don’t recollect ever seeing Tiny. He’s not someone you could easily forget.

            “Yeah, it’s on the other side of town. It’s called Speakeasy, just off of Fair Oaks.”

            “Oh, I know that place! They have that burlesque show every month.”

            “Yup, that’s us!” he admitted happily. “Alex is the head of the burlesque troupe. They’ve been performing there for almost two years now. It’s our busiest night. I’m trying to get her to agree to come once a week.”

            “Which one is Alex? Is that the Queen?” I asked. I was terrible with names.

            A voice from behind me laughed.

            “Hell no, I wouldn’t be caught dead in that getup!”

            I turned to see a tall, blonde in a blue and green bodice and skit. She was beautiful and had a very welcoming air about her. We were about the same build and height, but where I was large busted, she was small. Other than that, we probably could have shared a closet. Her eyes were her most striking feature; one was a vibrant green and the other a pale blue. I couldn’t help but stare.

            She smiled. “The eyes, right?”

            I blushed, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to be rude.”

            “Don’t worry about it,” she flopped down next to me on the hay bale. “I’m much, much rather people stare at my eyes than at my incredibly huge ass.”

            “What?” I shifted positions to see for myself, “You don’t have a…”

            Alex giggled, “I know, I just love that joke. That way I get compliments on my eyes and my butt in the same conversation.”

            I laughed and Tiny smiled and shook his head, “You’re naughty Alex.”

            “Yes, yes I am, and that’s why you love me!” She blew Tiny a kiss and he pretended that it knocked him off his hay bale. We all laughed, I liked her.

            “So, you know me now, but I don’t know you,” Alex turned toward me, “are you new to Faire?”

            I nodded, “yes, this is my first time. My best friend brought me out today to meet all her new friends. I’ve met so many people I can hardly remember all of them.”

            “So you’re Jeanie’s friend?” she asked, “Alieen, right?”

            “That’s me!”

            “Wonderful! Jeanie’s told me all about you. You’re a blogger, right?”

            I laughed and shook my head, “No, no… Jeanie likes to make up new professions for me every so often. She thinks what I do isn’t sexy enough and claims that it’s my job that keeps me single. I’m actually a Kindergarten teacher.”

            “I dunno,” Alex said, “nothing says sexy like basic geometric shapes and dress up!”

            I laughed. Yes, I was definitely going to like her.

Excerpt - Faire is hot

Story starts here
Continues here

Then comes this:

“So, what’s on the agenda for today ladies?” Christian asked as he sat down at the table with Tiny and me. Jeanie took the spot next to him and intertwined their arms.

            “Well, I think we should make the rounds, see the shows and do a little shopping,” Jeanie turned toward me, “sound good Aiai?”

            “Sure,” I replied agreeably. “That works for me. I do need to pick up some fairy wings or a wand for my niece. And one of my coworkers said I needed to check out the Shakespeare group. She came last year and said their rendition of Romeo & Juliet was hilarious.”

            “They’re very good,” Tiny said, “this year is Othello, it’s pretty damn funny.”

            “When’s the next show?” Jeanie asked.

            I pulled out the program the ticket taker had handed me as I had entered and scanned it.

            “Looks like there’s a show in 15 minutes,” I told the group.

            “Well then lets head to the stage,” Jeanie suggested. She and Christian stood up.

            “See you in a bit then,” Christian told her. “My shift ends at 1, come and meet me for lunch.”

            As the two of them shared a long kiss, I turned away and Tiny caught my eye. He rolled his eyes and motioned toward the goblet. I grabbed it and took another drink, it really was quite good. I’d never been much of a beer drinker, but I could see myself drinking beer more often if it was like this. It was a little fruity, but not too sweet. I thought some more about the name… big taste, little bottle? Tiny bottle, towering taste? I’d need to think on it some more.

            Jeanie and Christian finally peeled off of one another and Jeanie turned to Tiny and me.

            “Hey slow-poke, you ready?” She demanded. “Oh, and Tiny, what do you have flask-wise?”

            Tiny stood up, “hold on a second, I have some stuff in the back of the ale stand.” He disappeared behind a large canvas panel on the side of the ale stand. I stood and stretched (as much as the corset would let me)l. Tiny returned with two different flasks.

            “I have rum and scotch,” he said, holding up the flasks.

            “Rum for me!” Jeanie grabbed the flask he handed to her.

            “Scotch for you?” he asked me.

            I smiled, “no thanks,” I said. “I’m not a hard alcohol kind of girl. Besides, I don’t think I could drink more than a few sips in this thing.” I patted my ribs.

            “You’ll get used to it soon enough,” Christian laughed. “I bet by lunch you’ll forget it’s even on.”

            “I doubt that,” I retorted, “I think Jeanie may have punctured a lunch when she strapped me into this thing.”

            “Oh Aiai, stop exaggerating and lets go. I don’t want to miss anything.” Jeanie grabbed my arm and pulled me off in the direction of the main thoroughfare. “Bye boys!” She yelled back at Christian and Tiny. The two men waved and then turned back toward the ale stand.

            Once we reached the main drag, Jeanie let go of my arm, unscrewed the flask, and took a long swig. She capped it and tucked it into a pouch on her belt.

            “This is going to be great,” she smiled. I hadn’t seen her this excited in awhile. Of course, she’d broken up with her previous paramour only 4 weeks earlier. She’s also been having a hard time at work lately. They’d cut her hours and she was having a hard time making ends meet. She claimed that it was across the board cuts for all employees, but that Starbucks was always packed so I figured it had more to do with her constant tardiness. She was living with me for the time being, she always did in between boyfriends. If her relationship with Christian was getting serious (Jeanie-serious, not normal people-serious) then maybe I’d get my place to myself again soon. While I loved my best friend, she wasn’t the easiest person to live with.

            We found the stage quickly and took seats near the front. Jeanie took out the flask again and took another long swig. I held my tongue. It was only 11, but it was the weekend. She was also wearing that skimpy costume and if I had to be in that thing I know I’d need a bit of liquid courage.

            The show started and Jeanie put away the flask. Tiny and my colleague were right- these guys were hilarious. Othello is a rather dark play, but they managed to get the audience rolling with laughter. Who knew that murder could be so funny?            When the show ended my ribs hurt. The actors milled around the audience with their hats out for tips, as we passed one he asked:

            “Would you lovely ladies spare some coin for a poor actor?” He held out his hat and smiled. He was about my height, 5’ 9”, with darker skin, short hair, and dark brown eyes. Very cute and quite charming.

            “Sorry,” I smiled at him, “all my cash is trapped inside my corset, somebody told me it was the only way to carry cash at Faire.”

            The actor flashed me a huge smile,

            “Well, M’Lady, perhaps I can help you… recover… your coin. My nimble fingers are well versed in corset strings.”

            I laughed, “Thank you, kind sir, but no thanks. Although if I do find a way to “recover” my cash I will come back. Promise.”

            “I will pray, fair maid, that I see you again. But know that my offer will never expire,” he took my hand and kissed it.

            I blushed and Jeanie laughed.

            “Come on Aiai, we have other things to see.”

            “Ah, Lady Jeanie,” the actor released my hand and turned to Jeanie. “You know this ravishing Lady?”

            “Yes Michael, this is my best friend Aileen,” she tugged my arm, “lets get going!” She seemed unusually impatient to move on.

            “Hold on a second Jeanie,” I shrugged off her arm. “Nice to meet you Michael.”

            He took my hand and kissed it again.

            “The pleasure is all mine M’Lady.”

            “Aileen, NOW.” Jeanie was pulling my arm again.

            “Sorry Michael, I have to go. It was nice to meet you, maybe we’ll see you later.”

            He smiled, “anon, fair maidens, anon!”

            I turned and followed Jeanie out of the stage area.

            “What the hell was that about?” I demanded as we moved out of earshot. “That was amazingly rude.”

            “He’s a jerk. It’s a long story. Come on, let’s head this way. I think they have fairy wings at the booth up past the bend.” She started walking and I stared at the back of her head in amazement. What just happened? I wondered to myself. I walked to catch up with Jeanie who had just taken out the flask again for another long swig. I had a sinking feeling that this was going to be a long day.

There are another 2 brief sections I need to post before This excerpt. I'm at 12,000 words. Woot!

Do I have 44,000 more words worth of story?

So let's see.

Aileen and Jeanie are best friends. One is a bit of an introvert and one is a bit of an extrovert. Jeanie's latest "The One" is a man who works Renaissance Faire, has a day job as a Social Worker, and picks up night shifts at a bar to make ends meet. This man, Christian, meets Aileen for the 1st time and starts to fall for her. Jeanie is a bit of a drunk, starts a downward spiral, has a meltdown and pushes all her friends away. This pushes Aileen and Christian toward each other. They struggle with how to tell Jeanie.... and then?

Does Jeanie go to rehab? Does she go home to her family in Montana to get her metaphorical groove back? Do Aileen and Christian stay together or do the circumstances of their initial hook-up prevent them from starting something solid? Does Lassie alert everyone in time to rescue Jimmy from the well?

BIG GIANT SIGH OF FRUSTRATION.

Also, grades were due today. And? Our department is running an after-school intervention next week for students who haven't turned in an essay. Who is organizing said intervention? Me. Who VOLUNTEERED to do so? Me.

Do y'all see a pattern here? I take on too much.

But I'm not quitting. I'll keep on with this novel. It very well may take me longer than the month of November. But I really want to finish it and to have an actual product at the end. Even if no one reads it (well, other than you).

I have to confess that I'm not allowing my husband to read it. I might at some point, but he's not really a reader (I know, I know - but remember that thing about opposites). Wonderful husband, amazing father, hates books. (Ok, so hates is an exaggeration). So it's quite possible he won't even want to read it. I have mixed feelings about that. While I don't necessarily want him to read it, I also kinda want him to WANT to read it.

Do you see how this makes me a crazy person?

At least I have you, dear reader - who has seen my page 53 times. So either one person is clicking a few times a day, or there are actual a handful of people who are interested enough to read. I'm going to imagine it's the latter and not the former. Wait, which one is that? I hate that phrase, it always confuses me.

I hope it's a half a dozen readers. That's what I meant.

Of course, now that I've shown you my crazy, you won't come back.... or maybe you will, because I have AN EXCERPT!

This is after the 1st excerpt, but before the second. I like to keep you on your toes, apparently.

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            “Hey Jeanie, where are we meeting Christian and how long do we have to stay?” I asked as I turned toward her. Only she wasn’t there. In her place was a man dressed in a yellow shift, brown pants, and a matching hat who was holding up a basket of what looked like squid parts.

            “Would you like to try a succulent squid my Lady?” he asked as he pushed the basket of putrid seafood nearer to my face.

            “Uh, no thanks” I replied as I backed away quickly. Where the hell is Jeanie? I wondered.

            My cell phone buzzed. Ah, that must be her. Maybe she just went to the bathroom.

            I reached into my bodice and grabbed my cell, which was wedged (rather uncomfortably) in between my breasts. I decided that this was not my day. Between bruising my ribs in a corset and fishing my phone out from between my breasts, I had had my fill of uncomfortable situations. I was hoping I wouldn’t need my cash or ID at any point since they had probably migrated their way down my cleavage and were probably resting somewhere near my bellybutton.

            It was a text. It read found the Man, by the beer garden, meet me there

            Great. Now I had to find my way through the throng of rotten fish, sparkly fairy wings, and men attempting to personify Johnny Depp all by myself. Jeanie, you owe me, I grumbled to myself as I picked up my heavy skirts and tried to navigate through the throng. During the minute I had stopped to check my phone, the crowd had increased and included what looked like a herd of Tinkerbells being directed by a trio of women in matching tie-dye shirts. People moved aside for the children and so I decided to follow the group and hope they lead me in the right direction. At the very least it would reduce the odds of being accosted by another man carrying rotten meat.

            I lucked out. The school of faries came upon the beer garden rather quickly and as the fairy wranglers quickly shooed the children away from the 21 and over area I made a beeline for the bouncer.

            “ID?” he asked as I stopped short.

            “Um, yes. I think.” He looked at me quizzically. “I, uh, well. look. This is my first time at the Renaissance Faire and I was told to keep all my stuff, well, I mean. It’s in my bodice. Somewhere.” I looked at him pleadingly.

            “Sorry, can’t let you in without ID.”

            “Damn. Ok, I understand.” I pulled out my cell and dialed Jeanie. No answer.

            Damn it, I thought angrily, where IS she?

            The tap on my shoulder caught me off guard.

            “Excuse me, Aileen?”

            I turned around startled and found myself staring into the eyes of a Viggo Mortensen look-alike. His shoulder length hair fell down in waves and his eyes were a grey green color with an intenseness that sent a shiver down my spine. How does he know my name? I wondered to myself.

            “Yes… do I know you?” I finally managed to stammer.

            “Well yes and no, I’m Christian,” he replied with a winning smile. It should be illegal to have teeth that white. I thought. Damn, Jeanie was right. This one is cute.

            “Ah, nice to meet you Christian,” I held out my hand to shake his, but he opened his arms wide.

            “I’m a hugger,” he explained as his rather muscular arms enveloped me. He was the best smelling thing I’d encountered at the Renaissance Faire thus far, but to be fair, I had recently been forced to smell some overripe sea food. So the bar wasn’t set very high.

            “Hey, thanks for letting us borrow costumes,” I said as he let go. “It was really nice of you.”

            “No problem,” his smile really was mesmerizing, “couldn’t let you ladies walk into Faire looking like Turkeys.”

            “Wha?”

            “It’s what us Rennies call customers,” he said as he took my arm and lead me into the beer garden, “It’s alright John, she’s one of mine.”

            One of mine. The words repeated themselves over and over again in my head. He was either very sweet or incredibly presumptuous. I decided to hold off on judgment until I got to know him a little better. In the meantime I was scanning the crowd to try and find Jeanie. She was in for a lecture.

            “Jeanie sent me to come and get you,” he said, reading my mind. “She remembered that she had you put your ID and cash inside your corset before she laced you in, so there’s no way they’d let you in without an escort.”

            “Well, wasn’t that nice of her,” I replied.

            He laughed. “You can’t get too mad at Jeanie, her heart is in the right place even if her head rarely is.”

            “That’s pretty spot-on analysis, especially for someone who’s only known her for two weeks.”

            “Well, my Bachelors is in Clinical Psychology and my Masters is in Social Work, so I’ve gotten pretty good at reading people.”

            “Wow, impressive,” and I really was impressed. The usual caliber of men Jeanie dated was significantly less than this guy. Handsome, polite, and college educated? She’d hit the jackpot. There HAD to be something wrong with this guy.

            “So what do you do Aileen?” he asked, “Jeanie has been rather vague with the details.”

            “It’s because she’s embarrassed of me,” I laughed. “I’m actually a Kindergarten teacher. She can’t stand that her best friend is so mundane. Last week she set me up with a guy she works with, but told him I was an investigative reporter. Poor guy was more than a little disappointed.”

            “There’s nothing shameful about being in education,” he replied. “In fact, it’s one of the most noble professions. Very few people can impact a child’s life like a teacher.”

            I smiled. I think I was going to like this one. Jeanie had my seal of approval to continue to date him.

            “Ah, speak of the devil,” I said as we stopped at the ale stand. “There’s my bestie.”

            And there she was, playing a game of giant tug of war with a man who was twice her size, both horizontally and vertically. To make the game “fair” he had blindfolded himself and was standing on one foot on top of a small box. Jeanie was laughing so hard she could barely hold the rope. The giant man won easily.

            “Hey Aiai!” Jeanie yelled as she spotted me from her new spot on the grass. “You found us!”
            “No thanks to you,” I replied. “You totally owe me a beer.”

            “Coming right up,” the giant man said as he helped pick Jeanie up from off the ground. He walked the two steps over to the ale stand and grabbed a goblet the size of a large baby. I eyed the container suspiciously.

            “It’s good Aiai, try it,” Jeanie encouraged.

            “You can trust it,” Christian said, noticing my hesitation, “Tiny here makes the best home-brew.”

            “Alright,” I cautiously picked up the goblet. It was definitely a two handed proposition. The thing weighed a ton. I took a sip.           

            “Nice,” I smiled at Tiny. “Very impressive, thanks.”

            “You’re quite welcome,” his voice was low and soft, very soothing and unexpected. “I make it right before we open every year. Lately the batch has only been lasting through the first weekend, I’m actually thinking of bottling it. Just need to come up with a name.”

            “Oh have Aiai come up with one, she’s good at that stuff,” Jeanie gushed.

            I smiled, “I’ll have to think on it. Maybe something like ‘a big beer for a little bottle’”

            “I like that line of thinking,” replied Tiny, “it suits me.” He picked up his equally large goblet and drank thirstily.

Back on the Wagon

So I wrote tonight. Only 999 words, which brings me up to 6,795 total. I need almost 6,000 more to be on track to finish by the end of the month. Obviously I still have some catching up to do.

Right now I'm struggling with the following issues:

1. How do I introduce Alex? I have her interacting with Aileen later in the story and I have a backstory where she briefly dated Tiny, but I need to figure out how to introduce her to Aileen in the first place.

2. How does Jeanie self-destruct? She's obviously a lush, and Aileen wonders if she has a drinking problem... she needs to do something in order to push Christian (her boyfriend) into the arms of Aileen (her best friend) but what? A public melt down? A spectacular break-up?

There will be more, I'm sure. These are just the current issues.

I did at least resolve one problem today. I figured out what Christian, Alex, & Tiny's backstory is. This is where the bulk of my 999 words came into play - most of it is Christian explaining the rather complex relationship between the 3 of them to Aileen.

More writing tomorrow for sure. Bryan has another hockey game so I can focus on writing once I put the kids to bed!

It's been 2 days

Since I wrote anything... I am way behind.

Monday night's excuse was preparation for a Tuesday evaluation. I was putting the finishing touches on lesson plans and changed my mind a half a dozen time (the eval went well). Tuesday was the election, and I spent the night glued to my TV. I probably could have written and watched election returns, but I was anxious about a few candidates and ballot measures, so I couldn't really focus on writing.

Tonight I have some lesson planning, but I'll attempt to get back on the #nanowrimo bandwagon. It's hard, that's for sure. They weren't kidding when they said the 2nd week is the hardest.

Anyway, more story later this week - I hope!

Writing things in order is for wussies...

At least, that's what I'm telling myself. I haven't finished chapter one, and I've already written most of chapter 2. Oh well, I'll go back.

This might seem like a bit of a jump, espesically since you'll meet 3 new characters that I've yet to intro, but hopefully it still makes sense. I can only imagine how weird it would be to read it out of order (even though I'm writing it out of order, I still know the characters so it's less awkward for me). Bear with me. Hopefully I'll have all of chapter 1 done this week (in addition to later chapters) so you'll get to go back and read about Aileen's 1st encounter with Christian, Tiny, and Alex (the new characters... and did you know my main character's name is Aileen? You do now!)

Enjoy!

            A small child in a dirty peasants costume ran up to Christian.

            “It’s time! It’s time!” she yelled excitedly.

            I looked at him, confused.

            “Time for what?”

            “Closing parade,” he replied, “most of us circle through the site, sheepherding patrons to the exits. Then the real fun begins.” He winked.

            “Well, if it’s closing time I’d better haul her to the car.” I pointed at Jeanie who was passed out, her head on Tiny’s lap. “She’s going to be unpleasant tomorrow and if I have to deal with her hangover I should get a decent nights sleep.”

            I turned to walk towards sleeping Jeanie when Christian caught my arm.

            “You don’t have to leave, we have plenty of extra air mattresses for Jeanie. She can sleep it off in one of the tents. I can take her home tomorrow if you want to leave later tonight or you guys can go home in the morning. You’re one of us now.”

            “Thanks, but if I have to stay in this get-up for one more minute I think my ribs will stay this way.”

            “Hey Alieen, I have some extra stuff if you want it,” Alex piped up. “It might be a little big in places, but I can guarantee you it’ll be more comfortable than what you have on.” Her eyes twinkled, “plus, I have an amazing bottle of Chenin Blanc in my tent.”

            I sighed. She knew my weakness.

            “Fine, we’ll stay. But can someone help me drag Ms. Winehouse to a tent?”

            “I’ll take care of it,” Tiny stood and cradled Jeanie like she was a sweet sleeping child instead of a stone-drunk 28 year old.

            “Thanks Tiny, and if she pukes on you I promise to pay the dry cleaning bills.” I said, relieved, as he walked off towards Tent City. It was nice to have others around to help me take care of Jeanie. She was my best friend, but lately I felt more like her mother than her friend. I wasn’t sure if it I was just loosing patience with her Peter Pan syndrome, or if she really was getting worse.

            Christian smiled at me, “you really do take good care of her, don’t you?”

            “Someone has to,” I replied, “she doesn’t.” I sighed. “Sorry, that was mean. I’m just cranky from being squeezed into this damn thing all day. No wonder Queen Mary went bat-shit crazy, she was just pissed she had to wear a damn corset.”

            Alex and Christian laughed.

            “Come on Aileen,” Alex said, taking my arm, “let’s get you out of that thing.” She winked at Christian and turned me toward Tent City.

            We walked in silence to her tent. I was lost in thoughts about Jeanie’s drinking. She had always been a bit of a lush, but I’d never seen her this drunk before. It was one thing to have a couple glasses of wine as a social lubricant, but it was quite another to get so drunk you passed out. Had I missed some clues somewhere? Was something going on in her life that I didn’t know about?

            “You look worried,” Alex broke the silence.

            “Oh, sorry,” I replied, “I’m just thinking about Jeanie. She’s not usually so…”

            “Wasted?” Alex offered.

            “Yeah, I mean she likes to party. And she parties a bit harder than I do, but I’ve never seen her like this.” I bit my lip. “I mean, she’s 28 for goodness sake, not 21.”

            Alex squeezed my arm reassuringly, “I’m sure she’s fine. She was probably just nervous having you meet everyone. She really looks up to you, you know.”

            “Really?” I asked, surprised. “I always figured she thought of me as her sheltered baby sister.”

            “Sheltered yes, baby sister, no,” Alex said. “She told me she wished she could be more like you.”

            This had me confused. Be more like me? Thirty and single? I guess I did have a job I loved and could afford to pay my rent each month, but I didn’t exactly live the high life.  People don’t become teachers for the money.  I didn’t know how to respond, but by this time we had reached her tent. It was massive; three separate rooms you could stand up in, each with zip up door.

            “I think this is almost the size of my apartment,” I joked as we went inside.

            Alex laughed.

            “I love this thing,” she said. “I need room to spread out.” She opened one of the bedroom “doors” and pulled a sundress from out of a suitcase. “Try this, it should fit.”

            “Wonderful, thank you,” I replied as I slipped off my shoes, “can you reach back and unzip me?”

            “Sure.”

            She unzipped the back and I shrugged out of the over dress. Now for the corset. Alex undid the double knot and began to loosen the laces. I felt an immediate sense of relief. It was almost as if my torso had been asleep for 5 hours and was waking up again. My skin tingled and ribs sang with joy as I took my first deep breath since the morning.

            “Oh good gracious, that feels amazing,” I gushed.

            “Almost better than sex, isn’t it?” Alex grinned.

            “Well, almost,” I laughed. “It’s certainly close.”

            Alex helped me peel of the corset and herded me into one of the other rooms. I pulled the undershift over my head and as I did my ID and cash dropped to the ground.

            “Ah ha!” I cried. “There’s my cash, I owe Christian some for lunch.”

            “Owe me what?” Christians voice floated in from outside the tent. I pulled my undershift around me and yelled back, “get out of here, I’m not decent!”

            He and Alex laughed.

            “No one is ever decent after hours Aileen!” he called back.

            “Well I am, so shove off… Please?” I pleaded. I was not ready to be naked in front of these people. I liked them, but nudity wasn’t something I shared with most people – with any people really. The one time Jeanie had convinced me to go skinny dipping we were house sitting for my parents. It was just the two of us, and I refused to turn the pool light on. I certainly don’t mind nudity, I just don’t want to be the one who’s naked.

            “Alright,” Christian laughed, “you win. I’ll be by the bonfire when you and Alex are done. Jeanie is in Tiny’s tent, still dead to the world. I think she’ll stay that way for awhile.”

            I dressed quickly. The dress wasn’t a perfect fit, but the soft cotton felt wonderful on my skin after a day in the torture devise that was the corset. The built-in bra didn’t do much to actually hold anything in, but as I peeked out to see where Alex was I realized that what I was wearing was the Renaissance Faire version of a burka. Alex had put on fishnet thigh highs, a short pleated shirt, and a tube top… with suspenders. This was going to be an interesting night.

The Novel

Part of the reason I created this blog was to hold myself accountable to someone or something to get this d@mn thing done. Nothing like having interweb strangers ask about your novel's progress to kick your butt into gear.

I am certainly not the worst writer out there, I can write one hell of an analysis paper. But I haven't done much creative writing since high school. Oh, I've written the odd poem here or there (and maybe I'll post some) but I'm not about to be nominated to be the Poet Laureate. I'm not fishing for compliments, I'm just aware of my strengths and weaknesses. The more I write, the better I'll get (ah yes, the practice makes perfect adage). I tell this to my students all the time, you may not be an exceptional writer now (and in the 9th grade, I don't expect them to be), but you have the potential to be one if you put in the work.

So this is my first real attempt at a project this big. Some of it may be good, most of it will be ok, and some of it may be terrible. But I won't get any better if I don't start.

So here's my start. Let me know what you think.

Jeanie

“Jeanie, I look ridiculous in this thing,” I protested as Jeanie tightened the laces.

“Oh, just shut up and stop breathing for a sec.”

            I sucked in my breath and braced myself, this was going to be a long day.

Jeanie had been my best friend for the last 5 years and we were the odd couple of friends. Where she was artsy, I was practical. Where she was adventurous, I was cautious. We shared a love of white wine, British Literature, and Harry Potter. I had met her during one of the midnight book releases; I had brought my 10 year old niece Alyssa as my excuse to be the 30 year old single childless woman in the crowd, and Jeanie was working with the troupe of actors hired to play book characters. She was Bellatrix.

            We bonded while cleaning up Alyssa’s puke (food poisoning) and after I dropped poor sick Alyssa off at home, I ran by Jeanie’s for the Harry Potter after-party, which included actual butterbeer and concoction she called “Serverus’ One Eyed Snake” that may have actually made me hallucinate. We’ve been almost inseparable since, she’s attempted to loosen me up and I’ve been her crash-on-the-couch-safety-net when she’s between jobs or boyfriends or both.

            Which is why I was allowing her to cinch me into what was, perhaps, the words most uncomfortable corset. Although based on the pictures I’d seen from her costuming books, no corset is every really comfortable. Last week during her late shift at Starbucks, Jeanie had met Christian, her new love, who “worked Faire” (read: Renaissance Faire) and now she was insisting that I accompany her to opening weekend so I could meet the latest man to sweep her off her feet.

            “You know, he has cute friends,” she said through clenched teeth as she continued to lace me into the bodice. She had one set of the laces in her mouth and the other in her hand as she pulled it tighter.

            “I’m sure he does,” I replied breathlessly, “but I’m not going to be conscious enough to meet them if you don’t loosen this thing up a little. Why does it have to be so tight again?”

            “The tighter it is, the better your boobs look… and the smaller your waist.”

            I glanced at myself in the mirror. My rather ample bosom was practically spilling out of the corset as it was. I’d had rather large breasts since puberty and the novelty had worn off years ago. Jeanie had not been gifted the curse of large breasts and liked to live vicariously through mine.

            “Jeanie, if you tighten this anymore I’m going to have a Kris Jenner incident. I want to be able to sit down, we still have to drive there.”

            “Fine,” she huffed, annoyed. “But I’m just trying to help you out.”

            “I know you are,” I replied as she tied the laces into a double knot and then handed me the over dress. I awkwardly stepped into it as she zipped me up. “It’s just that you know how uncomfortable I am in large crowds of artsy people. And anyway, why am I going as nobility? Shouldn’t I be a serving wench or something? What’s your costume?”

            “Christian only had two girls costumes, and you get this one by default. Besides, I didn’t think you’d want this on.” She held up what looked like a tin bra and a leather thong.

            “Wait, I’m going in this heavy thing and you get to wear the equivalent of Princess Leia’s slave costume? Totally not fair.”

            “Well, do you want this one?” she asked, waving the leather thong in my face.

            I made a face. While I’m certain the barbarian costume would have been more comfortable, I wasn’t exactly ready to walk around in public half naked.

            “No, fine” I sighed. “I’ll wear this.”

            She finished zipping up the back of my costume and then promptly disrobed so she could put on her “costume.” As she dressed I turned to the mirror and surveyed her handwork. The ensemble didn’t look half bad. There was entirely too much cleavage, but the undershift came up to my throat, so if the girls decided to dive out they’d be mostly shielded by the shift, which was practically sheer but better than nothing. And I have to admit that the corset, while certainly the most uncomfortable thing I’ve ever worn, did give me the exact same figure I’d been trying to achieve in years of spinning and Pilates classes.

            “Done!” She exclaimed. I turned to look.

            “You look, uh, great!” I said.

            She narrowed her eyes at me. “Tell me the truth.”

            “No, really you do, I just don’t think I’ve seen that much of you before, and we’ve been skinny dipping.”

            “Shut it,” she laughed as she passed me my phone, “you ready?”

            “Yea, but where am I supposed to put this thing?” I asked as I grabbed my phone.

            “In your bodice, silly,” she responded with a sly smile.

            “Great,” I replied, “lets hope my Apple insurance covers breakage due to boob sweat. Lets get this over with.”

            The ride to Faire was uneventful, although incredibly uncomfortable. By the time we got there I felt lightheaded and queasy. To be fair, part of that was Jeanie’s driving. I’m not quite sure how she got her license, but I suspected a fair amount of flirting and/or bribery.

            Jeanie picked up our tickets at will-call and we headed toward the gate. The crowd was a colorful mixture of people dressed in period Renaissance clothing, revealing fairy costumes, and about a dozen Captain Jack Sparrows. The crowd was trampling up a fair amount of dust from the dirt walkway and the sun was already starting to make things uncomfortably warm.