Indie Ink: Colors Change for No Good Reason

"This is possibly the worst day of my life," I pause to sigh dramatically for effect and pout in Mike's general direction.  I continue before he can interrupt me though and say, "And yes, that includes the day that my bicycle crashed into the ice cream vendor at the pier."

Mike laughs and I hate him a little bit.  He chucks my chin and says, "I warned you to get the brakes on that death trap of a bike fixed."

I sit down on the front steps of the school and shake my head.  "That is not helping."

Mike wraps his arm around me and I'm inundated with smells that are so Mike - soap and wintergreen and pencil shavings.  I rest my head on his shoulder and close my eyes.  In this moment, everything is okay and I can forget how my life has fallen apart in front of me."It'll be okay, Elaina.  You always land on your feet."

I keep my eyes shut, but I'm back in my guidance counselor's office.  Instead of guidance, he stomps all over my dream and tells me there is no way I'll get into Yale without animal sacrifice.  He says it so easily, like it doesn't matter that every conversation with my father since I was five has been about Yale and following in his footsteps.  He says it with crumbs stuck in his beard between hacking coughs and shrill phones ringing.  Sucks to be you, Elaina.

"You didn't even want to go to Yale."

I roll my eyes and laugh mirthlessly.   Mike nudges me in the side and says, "You'll figure it out."

"You seem so sure of that."

"Because I know you.  You're relentless to a scary degree and you'll figure out what you want to do and where you want to go and god help anyone who stands in your way."

I smile reflexively.  "Thanks, I think."

He slides a few inches away and turns to face me and suddenly we're in this moment where time slows down and my heart hammers in my chest and my head is screaming to move away, but I can't do it.  All these feelings that I've been sitting on for months are bubbling up to the surface and the soft, endearing expression on Mike's face is all it takes for me to kiss him.

Logic and every reason best friends should not hook up begin to run through my head, but they're thwarted as Mike's fingers curl in my hair and he pulls me closer until I'm almost on his lap.  He tastes a lot like he smells, less the pencil shavings, and I feel like I will never get enough of this.

He pulls back and caresses my face which freaks me out because he's Mike, but also makes me shiver in a way I'm not used to.  He smiles and says, "I've been hoping you would do something like that for over a year."

I arch my eyebrow.  "What?"

"I figured you knew how I felt about you, but didn't want to ruin our friendship...and I didn't want to mess things up, so-"

"-so you were a big chicken?" I say with a laugh.

He rests his forehead against mine and holds my hands in his.  It's something we've done millions of times over the years, but it's different and exciting, my skin tingling.  "Are you freaking out on me, Elaina?"

"Surprisingly no."

"Are you sure?"

"Surprisingly, yes," I say and I kiss him again.  Maybe finding out I had no chance at Yale broke my brain and I no longer have impulse control.  It's a brief kiss and I pull back to look at him, making sure that this is really happening and I'm not having hallucinations brought on from a nervous breakdown.  I wouldn't be the first teenager to go crazy on the quest for the Ivy League.

"It really happened.  No take backs," Mike says.  He always can read my mind.  He stands up and extends his hand to me, lifting me up onto my feet.  He pushes back a stray piece of hair from my face and says, "We should get you home."

"Want to stay for dinner?"

"You need support when you break the news to the parents?"

I shrug and try to sound casual. "Well, yeah, but I also just want to hang out with you."

He grins and squeezes my hand, "Sure."

"Good," I respond, even though it hardly does justice to how I feel.  In the span of one afternoon, I've gone from having one dream destroyed, but another one, one I was so scared of for so long, has been realized.  And who knows what will happen, but I'm definitely enjoying the moment.

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This week’s IndieInk Challenge came from transplantedx3, who gave me this prompt: "For every dream that's shattered, another one comes true." I challenged Amanda with the prompt "I can’t get you off my mind."

Note:  This is a scene that features one of the characters I like to revisit, Elaina.  Other pieces with her can be found here.  Happy Thanksgiving to those that celebrate!

celebrations and new goals...

I have not had a drop of soda in seventy-six days.  76!  That's huge for me.  I had such a terrible addiction to Coke and Cherry 7-Up.  It was insane and unhealthy and there was no real reason for it because I'm one of those people who actually likes water.  But I'm like a  junkie in need of a fix with soda - moderation doesn't work.  I had managed to give up soda for six months at one point, until one day I thought, "it's been long enough, a small diet coke won't hurt me."  It was like a deluge opened and I would have excuse after excuse for not stopping again.  It's a weird addiction to have, but I'm learning that the reasons I want soda are muddled in a mess of things and it's best to avoid it if I can. 

76 days!

I want to take this victory and use it to go into other areas of my life.  It's all about small steps, making small changes, and it's also all about making sure I'm proud of my accomplishments. 

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In other news, I am using the WordPress journal I set up awhile ago to join in on a writing adventure with a great group.  It's the Serpentine Road and I know it will be great for unleashing my creativity.  I'm so focused on numbers lately that it's causing me to freeze up.  And it makes me dread writing - I hate feeling like that.  I'm also hoping to do more random writing in this blog as well.  I'm not sure where my block is coming from - life, fear, me - but I'm ready to plow through it.

A vote for me is a...vote for me

So in my quest to get much more serious about my writing and getting published, I entered a contest from the Savvy Author website.  The first round involved providing the first line of the current novel you are writing and the top thirty made it through to round two.

We are now in the process of round two and only five make it to the final round.  I was hoping that some of you would feel moved to vote for me.  It's like one of those weird moments that contestants have on the Biggest Loser, where they have to admit out loud that while they wish no ill will/harm toward their competitors, they deserve this chance.  I don't usually ask for things - I'm the giver.  But I would love and appreciate anyone who would go here and vote for my blurb/pitch.

It's # 7 - Lauren Monroe wants to set the record straight: time traveling is not romantic or cool, especially when there is a price on your head. One of the last of the time travelers - living in a world where monsters and demons run amuck and the "heroes" only pretend to save the day - Lauren, alongside her brother and friends, must change the course of the future to save humanity... and herself.

You don't need an account to vote in this round and I currently still have a chance to make it back into the the top five.

three things for the day

1)  work is insane.  so much to do, so little time.  I'm always impressed by people who have it so together, able to balance work, personal, etc so well.

2)  On a whim, I decided to enter the current young adult novel I'm working on into a contest.  Round 1 was based on the first line of the piece.  I was in the top thirty for round one, so now I get to move onto round two - summary of the novel.  I'm a little intimidated by summaries and titles.  It's always the small things that throw me.  I shall overcome though.  I'm going to do this.  (And maybe beg y'all to vote for me).

3)  Since I have nothing real to offer today as every thought seems to be seeping out of my pores before it can become coherent, I shall share a cool giveaway.

my mind is a foggy place

 

I can't remember where I found this picture.  If it's yours, please let me know so I can give proper credit.  I just adore it.  I love the foggy, quiet feel of it.  I love how you can't see the end of the bridge - where does it go?  What's waiting on the other side?

I haven't been feeling very creative lately.  Slightly drained, a lot emotional.  I'm guessing a large part of that was due to the first anniversary of my mother's death a few weeks ago.  The other part of it is just annoyances with work and life and whatever else I allowed to get under my skin.  The problem is that when I'm not able to write, even crappy sentences that no one will ever see, I feel even more disconnected and crazy.  Vicious circle.

I did have an AHA! moment on a current project.  It started as a screenplay, but as I began the second draft and noticed the plot holes, I realized that the narrative set up of this piece was much more suited for book format.  Unless I'm Quentin Tarantino, I can't get away with such a wordy screenplay (maybe once I win my first Oscar) that's not very visual at all.  So I have the basic outline/general story for a new young adult piece.  However, I'll need to start thinking up new and meaningful ideas for screenplay. 

I think I need to make some time for myself tomorrow or Monday (probably Monday as tomorrow is my sister's birthday) and just let my mind go blank and go with the flow.  Just write whatever comes out.  After all, crappy sentences are better than no sentences.  And crappy sentences can always be fixed.