Confessions

Hello Blog Land Citizens!

I hope that this post finds you all well and in the holiday spirit!

I've had several readers ask me how my novel went and figured it was time to confess that despite my best efforts, I was unable to finish. I did, however reach 35,000 words which is no small feat. I am continuing to write it, and will hopefully finish by the end of the month. I finish with one class on Sunday and the other next Sunday, so I should be able to devote more time to writing my zany tale.

I have also had several readers ask me to post another excerpt...so...here it is. Please keep in mind that this is still the roughest of rough drafts. No editing has occurred, so please excuse any grammatical or spelling errors.

Yes. She was definitely back in Fanglethorn’s office turned corridor of madness. Any second now she expected a decidedly Cheshire-y smile without a face to appear.

Had she fallen down on her way to the Professor’s office? Had she actually every made it there? Had she been hit by a bus crossing the street to campus? Had her Caramel Apple Spice from Starbucks been drugged?

She reached out and touched the black walls of the corridor. Real.

She reached into her pocket and felt the little gold snail nose. Real.

So what now? What had the note said? She must go forward to go back and must find what is hidden. Well, she had found one thing that was hidden and apparently the only way to get out of this madness was to go through another doorway.

She just hoped that whatever insanity lay behind the next door, it wouldn’t include being abused by farm animals who thought they were people or being cooked for dinner.

Lucy walked down the corridor a ways and then paused in front of the door labeled, “Christmas, sir, is a humbug”. Hmm. Well if the people through this doorway thought Christmas was a humbug, then they were less likely to consider cooking her as the main course of a Christmas dinner.

She breathed in and the opened the door.

It was cold. That was the first thing she noticed on the other side of the door.

The second thing she noticed was that everywhere around her was an irritating humming sound.

She glanced around, attempting to determine the source of the humming. She appeared to be in someone’s home. An old home, the kind you see in movies with a Victorian setting. It apparently didn’t have central heating and and as she walked from room to room she noticed that none of the massive fireplaces were lit. No wonder it wsa freezing.

The house appeared to be deserted. Except for the humming sound, which led her to believe that someone was somewhere in the massive house.

She was still exploring when she noticed that one of the window sills seemed to be moving. Impossible. How could a window sill move. But wait. She was in Crazy Town. If pigs thought they were people, then window sills could move. Against her better judgement, she walked slowly to the window and as she did so, the humming sound grew louder.

What she saw terrified and disgusted her. On the sill, were little creatures, bout the size of humming birds, white, red, and green with the number 25 on their backs. She had found the source of the humming sound.

“What are these things?” she wondered aloud.

“They’re Hum-Bugs of course” a voice said from behind her.

Lucy whirled around around and promptly lost her balance and fell to the ground.

The humming noise increased. Were those buggy things laughing at her? She adjusted her glasses and looked at the person whose presence, until now had been unknown.

“You’re the snail girl!”, Lucy exclaimed in surprise.

“What?”, the girl asked.

“The snail girl, form the barn…don’t you remember me?” Lucy asked.

The girl just stared at her.

Lucy decided to try another tactic. “ So, uh, what did you say these things were?”

The strange girl looked around as if trying to figure out who was asking her the question.

“They’re Hum-Bugs.” She answered finally in her whispery voice.

“Well what exactly is a Hum-Bug” Lucy asked.

The strange girl once again looked around the room, as if trying to figure out how she gotten there and why Lucy was still asking her questions.

“Scrooge-Bugs. They’re bugs that Mr. Ebenezer created to ward off Christmas time. That’s why they’re at all the window sills. To keep the Christmas spirit from getting in.”

Lucy began blinking her eyes rapidly.

“But if they’re to keep the Christmas spirit out, then why are they red, white, and green? And why do they have the number 25 on their backs?”

The strange girl sighed. “ Because, they’re trying to make the Christmas spirit think that the house already is here in the house.”

Lucy thought about this for a moment. She tried to wrap her head around what the strange girl was saying, but when it came down to it, it just wasn’t making any sense.

“Well, I’m looking for something that’s hidden.” Lucy explained.

“Oh?” the girl said, “Well that’s nice, what is it?”

Lucy looked sheepishly at the child. “I was kind of hoping you could tell me”.

The child walked to the window sill and picked up a Hum-Bug. She pulled both of it’s wings off.

“ That’s strange. It seems odd trying to find something but not knowing what it is.” The girl said slowly. “ Like something a crazy person would do.”

The child picked up another Hum-Bug and began pulling off it’s wings as well. As she did, she turned her round, doll-like eyes on Lucy.

“Are you a crazy person?” She asked.

Lucy was about to reply with a resounding NO, but then she stopped herself. Maybe she was crazy. After all, she had just come from Charlotte’s Web Land and now she was apparently in some warped version of Charles Dicken’s A Christmas Carol.

“I-I-don’t know”.

“ If I were you” the girl whispered, “I would try to figure that out.”

“Duly noted” Lucy said, somewhat amused. “In the meantime, do you know where I might start looking for something that is hidden?”

“I think you should talk to Mr. Ebenezer. He’s around here somewhere. He never leaves this house anymore. He likes to talk to ghosts. Mostly his friend Jacob.”

Great. Now she was supposed to seek out a man who was obviously a little deranged that liked to talk to ghosts. And who tried to keep Christmas out by guarding his window sills with Hum-Bugs.

The strange girl was now humming to herself. Definitely something a little off about her too, Lucy decided.

Since she had seen most of the first floor, she made her way in the dimly lit rooms to a stairwell. It looked exactly like the stairwell in the movie version of A Christmas Carol. She half expected to find the undertaker and the maid waiting for her at the top. Thankfully no one was there. She turned to her left and saw a door with light coming from underneath. It was the only light in the long corridor. She went to the door and knocked timidly. After all, there would be a crazy man inside.

There was no answer. She knocked again, this time a bit louder. Still no answer. She was just about to knock one last time when the door opened.

“Were you intending to knock on my facce youg lady?” the man asked peevishly.

Before her stood an old man, stooped, with graying hair and in a dirty dressing gown.

She started blinking. “Uh, well, no sir”, she said in a whisper, “I was just about to knock again when you opened the door.”

“Knock again, eh? What? You think just because I’m an old man I can’t hear when someone knocks at my door?” here he took huffed. “What a stupid girl”.

Lucy was just about to say that she was quite tired of being abused by people who were obviously a bit insane, and had in fact opened her mouth to communicate this, when she suddenly remembered that she needed this old coot’s help. She shut her mouth. It wouldn’t do to offend him.

“I am sorry, sir. I just thought you might be asleep or something” she said in a conciliatory tone.

The old man cackled. “Sleep? Whoever heard of such nonsense?” He looked around as if talking to a room full of people. “There’s no time for such frivolous activities as sleep when there’s a holiday to keep out of the house! And the Hum-Bugs! There’s the Hum-Bug hives that must be maintained! Ha! Sleep the girl says!”

He cackled and made his way back to a huge and faded lazy boy chair.

 Odd. Did they even have chairs that reclined like that back in Dicken’s day?

“SO how did you get in my house, dumb girl? Did that old wing pulling monster of a child let you in?”

“Oh no! I came in through a door.”

“Well”, he said dryly, it would be most difficult to come in through a window, wouldn’t you say?”

Lucy rolled her eyes. These people and their wretched sarcasm.

“I meant a came in through a door in Professor Fanglethorn’s office” she corrected.

“Ah, Fanglethorn sent you, eh? Funny that. He usually sends only smart people through his office. He must have made an exception for you.” He glanced slyly at her from the corners of his eyes, trying to surmise whether such audacious rudeness would get under her skin.

Lucy blinked. After a few minutes of silence he spoke

“Well, I can see that you’re a hard nut to crack” he said, “so what can I do for you?”

“I’m looking for something, something that is hidden.” She explained.

“And let me guess, you have no idea what is hidden that you must find.”

Lucy nodded and the old man sighed.

“It’s always the same with these nit-wits Fanglethorn sends through. They’re always looking for something and don’t have any idea as to what it is. Looney it is.”

The phrase, “Pot calling the kettle black” ran through her mind. Of all the nerve.

Her mouth, however, she held shut.

Suddenly he flipped over in the chair and attempted a hand stand. The chair rocked precariously and he came flying out of it.

Lucy gasped and the humming sound which had grown quieter since she had entered the room, suddenly grew louder. She ran over to where the old guy lay.

“Don’t worry girl”, he said through his dressing gown which was now over his head, “I’m quite all right, it’s an amusement for Hum-Bugs you see!”

She took a step back and watched, astonished, as he righted himself.

“Good for the Hum-Bugs?” she asked.

“Yes, yes, yes. One has to keep them amused or they’ll bite you.”

“And what happens if they bite you?” Lucy asked.

“You’ll either turn into a Hum-Bug or be turned into a Christmas Ham.” The man said matter of factly.

“ I should have known” she said in an exasperatd tone.

What was with these people and their fixation of turning people into items to be eaten for dinner? And why did everyone seem to know who Professor Fanglethorn was?

“So please, sir, how can I find whatever it is that is hidden?”

“Oh that’s easy”, he explained, “you must become what you fear. Now go away.”

“Become what I fear?” she questioned.

“That’s what I said, stupid child. There’s something in this house that terrifies you, or else Fanglethorn wouldn’t have sent you here.”

Ebenezer approached her.

“Here” he said, “take a look at this”.

In his hand he held a Hum-Bug. Lucy took a step back.

“No thank you. I hate things that crawl.”

“Excellent!” he said happily, “Then we’ve discovered what it is you fear!”

Her jaw dropped. Behind her glasses, her eyes began to blink rapidly. She was too appalled to speak the words that had formed in her mind. She closed her mouth. Then opened it again.

“You know my dear” Old Ebenezer said in a confidential whisper, “I’m sure you’re quite an attractive girl, and I admit the lighting in this old room isn’t ideal, but with those glasses and your mouth opening and closing like that, you look like a cross between an owl and a cod fish.”

He finished this pronouncement with a snort and then collapsed into laughter in his chair.

To be honest, she was getting very offended with being called a cod-fish. The owl comparison she didn’t mind so much because she had always thought of them as a scholarly type of bird, like Owl in Winnie the Pooh. But a cod-fish? It had no redeeming qualities that she could think of. Except maybe that it was tasty to eat. And in light of her experience in the barn yard, that was the last thing she wanted to think about. She decided to ignore Ebenezer’s rudeness.

“So I must become what I fear? And what I fear most in this house are the Hum-Bugs. So I must become a Hum-Bug?”

“Ebenezer began clapping. “Bravo! What excellent deductive reasoning you have, my girl.”

“But how?” she asked.

“By letting it bite you of course!”

“But I thought you said if it bit you, you could be turned into a Christmas Ham!”, she practically shouted.

“My girl, we’ve established that I am not hard of hearing! Please lower your voice or I shall be forced to call for a policeman.”

“What?!” Lucy said, confused.

“ You will either be turned into a Hum-Bug or a Ham.”

“But I don’t want t be turned into a Ham! I don’t want to be eaten for Christmas Dinner!”

“Oh you won’t be” he explained calmly, “ At least not by me. Christmas, ma’am, is a humbug.”

“Well, that’s a relief” she said with a sigh.

“But all people turned into hams are promptly given to my friend Wilbur.”

Oh dear God. She could very well still end up being on that crazy pig’s table.

She took her glasses off and wiped them with edge of her sleeve. As if by wiping the smudges off she could also clear the confusion away from her mind.

When she put them back on, Ebenezer was so close that she could see his nose hairs. Ew. She almost gagged. As she took a step back, he stepped forward. There was no escaping this crazy man. He held out his hand to her again. From this proximity, she could hear that the Hum-Bug was not only humming, but was actually saying very quickly in a munchkin-like voice, “huuuuuuuuuum-bug, huuuuuuuuuuuum-bug”.

How gross and irritating. As the nasty little booger walked around in Ebenezer’s palm, she also noticed that a little red and green tongue with yellow spots flitting in and out of it’s tiny mouth. A decidedly earthy smell was emanating from it. It reminded her of something. Ah yes, smashed lightning bugs.

She was about to raise another objection to being bitten by the weird thing, when all of a sudden, Old Ebenezer sprang towards her, grabbed her hand, deposited the bug into it and then forced her hand closed around it. He jumped back cackling.

She gasped and then opened her hand just in time to see the Hum-Bug bare two vampire like fangs and sink them into the flesh between her thumb and pointer finger.

She barely had time to say, “Ouch!” before she became aware of a strange sensation in her legs. She looked down and she saw her legs literally shrinking away. What was that Alice had said? Oh right, shutting up like a telescope. That seemed to be exactly what she was doing. She felt herself shrinking and the room around her growing to massive proportions. The laughter still coming from Ebenezer sounded like the blast from an elephant’s trunk through a bull horn.

She tried to speak, but when she did, a long, butterfly-like probiscus extended from her mouth. It was bright red with green and yellow spots. Instead of words, a “huuuuuuuuuuum-bug” resounded from her throat. 

There's another little tid-bit to boggle your brains! 

Until next time!

Run In with Murphy

Nine days into NaNoWriMo and disaster has struck. Or rather Murphy with his dumb law has.

After my coffee was brewing and the dog had been taken out, I hopped back into the bed, plugged in my trusty Macbook and got ready to do some writing while the inspiration was freshly pumping into my brain.

I pressed the power button.

Nothing happened.

I pressed it again.

NOTHING HAPPENED.

Was the outlet not working? Had a fuse blown?

I looked at the little light on the power adapter cord. Or rather, I looked where the light should've have been. It was dark. No little green light was glowing back at me.

I felt panic rising up in my chest and the anxiety that is never very far away welled in my stomach and rose into my chest, threatening to cut off my air supply.

Ok. So. Admittedly I'm being a little dramatic. Ok. A lot dramatic. I, did, however, start to panic. I have research to do for school, papers to write, a PowerPoint to put together for Sunday, and a book to write!

This is NOT a good time for this to happen!

Here's the deal with my power adapter. It's the only problem I've ever had in the 4 years I've had the computer. Well that, and the fact that I need a new battery. So, when roughly a year or so ago, the power cord started to fray and eventually just broke in half, I replaced it with a cheap generic adapter from some company off of Amazon. As I now see, not the best choice as far as quality goes, but 20 bucks is a lot better than paying 80 from the Apple store. Did I mention that I never replaced the battery (which is $130 from Apple)? So, the Mac only works when plugged into the wall.

Suffice it to say, I wish I would've just bit the bullet and bought an adapter and cord from Apple. Besides the fact that I'm in the middle of writing a book that must be completed by November 30th, it is also roughly 5 weeks from the end of the semester, also known as, crunch time and the time when professors throw everything at you at once. Until I can get to work on Monday and use my bosses power cord, I have no way to access the information on my computer.

Haha. Oh the tragedy of it all.

In the mean time, I'm trying desperately to remember what the last thing I wrote in my book and pick up from there using my sister's laptop. I'm SO glad that she has a computer now, even though it's tough to share when we both have online classes. It is, however, better than nothing at all.

And it's getting to be that time of year where it becomes necessary to purchase presents for family and friends...what a perfect time to have to shell out $250 for computer parts.

BUT! I REMEMBERED THIS....

And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to [his] purpose. Romans 8:28
 

Counting it all JOY, Blog Land!

A Peek into a Writer's Mind

I never thought I would say this, but I think I'm on a word overload. Ha.

With only 5 weeks left in the semester, my assignments are getting decidedly more complex and the reading has gone from 1 chapter a week to about 3 chapters per class. A lot to digest whilst also trying to write a 50,000 word book in 30 days. It also happens to be my turn to teach the Upper Room kids, so I'm studying and trying to prepare for that as well.

Yet, I love a good challenge and I like being kept busy. You know that old saying? It's true.

Idle Hands are the Devil's Workshop

So, to keep myself and my overly analytical mind out of trouble, I stay busy.

Anyhow, the book is proceeding, though, I regret to say that I am already a bit behind. I wasn't able to write at all over the weekend and that really slowed me down. As of right now I have 6,336 words. I'm trying desperately to catch up and hope to have at least 11,000 by the end of the day. Here's a little sample...

Lucy let out another sigh and for the first time looked at her surroundings. She was standing in what appeared to be a large fenced in barnyard. Beyond it she could see a farmhouse and even further away she could see fields of corn and soybean. What could possibly be hidden on this farm that she needed to find? And how could she look if she didn’t know what she was looking for?

She sat down on a bale of hay and stared off vacantly in the direction of the corn field.

“ You must be the new pig.”

Startled, Lucy, fell off of the hay bale. Her fall was met by immediate snickers from just about every corner of the yard. As she righted herself and hastily readjusted her glasses and her clothing, she noticed a pig, standing upright on it’s two hind legs, looking at her rather quizzically. She glanced away to see who else was in the yard and was surprised to find a goose, her gander, a horse, and a huge spider hanging from a web.

I beg your pardon? She asked dumbly.

“ I said, you must be the new pig”, the pig repeated.

Lucy was about to reply to the negative when she noticed that the pig was wearing faded jeans, and a flannel checkered shirt. “Uhhh….” She started weakly.

“ Templeton was right” the pig said loudly, “this pig is a complete idiot!”. This announcement brought another round of laughter from the yard.

“Excuse me!” Lucy said, once again indignant. “ I am not a pig, you are!”

The pig appeared to take great offense at this statement. He started to make a snuffling sound, and began to clicking his two front hooves together.

“And I’m not an idiot!” Lucy continued, “I’m just completely out of my element! I’m looking for Professor Fanglethorn and I’ve had to come here to find him and I don’t understand why he would be in a barnyard with all these rude animals!” She paused here, out of breath. She was about to speak again when the pig started to speak.

“ I take the utmost umbrage at being characterized by the likes of you as a pig. I  am a person and it is undisputed that you are the pig. 

My wife and I are the owners of this farm and it was Fanglethorn who gave you to us to eat for Christmas Dinner.”

Upon hearing this, Lucy’s eyes started blinking rapidly again behind her glasses and her mouth, which had dropped open during the Pig’s speech, began opening and closing soundlessly.

The spider, who had been silent up to this point, dropped further down from the web on which she had been hanging and said in what she obviously thought was a whisper to the Pig, “ Are you sure she’s a pig? Look at the way she opens and closes her mouth, Wilbur. She seems more like a cod fish to me.”

Lucy clamped her mouth together so hard that her teeth rattled.

“I see where you’re coming from, Charlotte” Wilbur answered the Spider, “ but she’s definitely a pig. Professor Fanglthorn said so, and just look at her.”

Lucy felt all eyes in the yard turn to her. This was getting more and more uncomfortable by the minute.

“Uh, look”, she began. “I’m sure there’s been some kind of misunderstanding. Professor Fanglethorn is  is my advisor. He would never have sent me anywhere to be eaten for Chrsitmas dinner.”

Even as she spoke the words she was struck by the absurdity of the whole scenario. The Pig ignored her and Charlotte said rather nastily, “And yet, here you are”.

“This is your new home Piggy Girl, at least for the next few weeks”, “Wilbur chuckled deviously. He then opened the gate to the yard and walked in the direction of the farm house. “ I still say you’re a cod fish”,Charlotte said meanly before scurrying back into the rafters of the barn. 

And that, Ladies & Gentlemen of Blog Land, is a little peek into my NaNoWriMo madness! Teehee. 

Writers Start Your Engines & In Other News...

Fellow writers of the world! Start your engines!

Yes Blog Land, today is officially the first day of NanoWriMo! 10 hours into the day and  I haven't written a word. Ha. But, never fear, my outline was completed earlier this week and I will begin writing this evening.

1600 words a day for the next 30 days...

I think I can, I think I can, I think I can....

This is going to truly be a test of the will as I will have to discard my procrastinator tendencies to do what I am setting out to.

In other Wonderland news, in an effort to realize my 30 Before 30 goal of taking at least one picture everyday for the next year, I have joined Instagram. So, if you're a fellow Instagram-er, then you can find me by searching for either RachieT or rachelinathumbelina.

On a serious note, have you ever noticed that God is faithful to test your choices? Often times, we mistakenly think that once we make a choice that's the end of it. However, think of it this way...when we make difficult decisions for Christ, we can think of that choice as being a block of ice. Many times, not too long after we make this choice, certain situations will arise that will make us second guess our decision or even want to go back on that decision...situations that could "melt" the solidity of the choice we made. And in this place, we are faced with making that choice all over again. But in making that choice over and over again, we are in fact solidifying our stand, faith, and trust in the LORD. Remember, Galatians 6:9 says,

Let us not be weary in well doing: for in season we shall reap, if we faint not.

Just a little food for thought to carry with you through the day!

NaNoWriMo

My Adventures are about to get a lot more adventure-y!

Mike, a friend of mine, who is a fellow lover of books and writing has been suggesting that I join NaNoWriMo for quite some time now. He will be happy, upon reading this post, to find out that I have decided to do it!

I know, I know Blog Land...I can already hear your question...What the heck is NaNoWriMo??!

Haha.

I shall explain.

It is an acronym for National Novel Writing Month. In case you weren't aware, November happens to be said month. 

So, the general idea is to start writing a novel on November 1st and to complete it on November 30. It must be at least 50,000 words, which is roughly 175 pages. It cannot be part of a previously started work; it must be new. 

Quite a feat, eh?

I have to admit that I was leery and a little hesitant to commit to this particular challenge. I mean, I have hardly worked on my thriller since the semester started...how in the world am I going to start and finish an entire work in 30 days?! 

I have no idea. Ha. But I'm sure going to try!

Mike suggested that I do something that's not quite so serious...just something light and fun....and I've decided that I'll do just that. I haven't quite decided what it will be yet...but I do know that it'll probably Alice-esque. That's code for weird and off the wall. Haha. I've only got 7 days to formulate characters and a plot!

Oh the frantic madness of it all! Muwahahahahahahaha!

Ahem...anywho...I digress.

If this sounds like something you'd be interested in trying you can find out more about it at www.nanowrimo.org.

Wish me Luck!

And Time Goes By....

I'm having a hard time believing that August is almost over. Before you know it will be Christmas time and the eve of a new year. But one thing at a time. I worked late last night and was driving home a little bit after 8. I was surprised to find that the sun was already starting to go down. By the time 9 rolled around, it was almost completely dark.

The days are getting shorter, announcing subtly to the world that one season is about to end and another about to begin. Fall, is as I'm sure I've mentioned before, my favorite time of year. I love the way the leaves look when they're turning colors and falling to the ground. I love how it's cool in the mornings and evenings. I love the smell of bonfires. I love going to pick pumpkins and buying Chrysanthemums for our balcony! Ah, fall!

But, we're not quite there yet. So for the time being I'm still enjoying the summer heat, the fact that the kids have gone back to school, and that my second to last semester of college has begun, as well. As is always the case, my postings may be fewer in number as I dive into the books and expend my creative energies on sucking up as much of the world of Tort Law and Civil Procedure as I can. I will, however, attempt to hammer out at least one post a week and maybe even surprise you with another excerpt from my book, if I can squeeze time in for more writing in that area too.

Oh! And here's a random question, which I really need an answer to. When is it ok, if ever, to ask a guy to dinner? Yes, Blog Land, someone new has caught my eye....but I don't know if I've caught his....should I ask? Or just wait for him to? Would love to hear your opinion on this matter!

Only 2 more days until the weekend!

Happy Wednesday!

A Novel Teaser

Hello all...as I promised, I have decided to share with you a bit of what I've been writing in my newest book. Be gentle with my baby! Please remember that what you're reading is the roughest of rough drafts! Stay tuned for more tid bits!

Prologue:

Through the clouds she saw the blood spattering towards her. She closed her eyes, and as she did, the warm wetness made contact with her face. Why were there drums beating around her? Or was that sound of her own heartbeat? She fell to the ground, narrowly missing the knife that was on the floor near her. Instead of hitting the ground as she fell, she landed on something soft…and wet. Her hand reached for the knife and after what seemed like a very long time, her hand closed around the handle.  It tightened in readiness and then, she was floating. 

Chapter 1

Before her eyes opened, she became aware of a constant beeping sound. She slowly opened them and realized at once that she was not in her small apartment. As she struggled to sit up and rub her eyes, the beeping sound sped up as she realized that her hand would not reach any further than her nose. At first, she thought she was paralyzed, but as her eyes continued to adjust to the brightness of the room, they focused on her right arm. Connecting her arm to the bed was a silver handcuff. Horrified, she opened her mouth and let out a blood curdling scream.

Chapter 2

 By the time Michael Kirkland navigated his way through the bumper to bumper traffic of the city, more than an hour had passed. He found a handicapped parking space, jumped out of his car and into the hospital. He ran through the corriders to the floor where he was told his wife would be.

He heard her before he found her room.

****

 The room was chaos.  Shahanna was on her knees, trying to stand, but only getting so far because of her cuffed hand. There were three nurses; one was brandishing a syringe on the right side of the bed, one was at the foot of the bed, and the other was on the left side.

Shahanna was flailing her arms and screaming at the top of her voice, “ I didn’t do it, please tell me I didn’t do it! I didn’t do it!”

At last, the nurse on the left was able to grab a hold of the arm that was unrestrained by the cuff. Shahanna’s legs continued to kick and flail at the air. One of her feet made contact with the nurse’s arm at the foot of the bed and seizing on the opportunity, she grabbed that foot and then the other. “ Do it now!” the nurse yelled. The nurse on the right side jammed the needled into Shahanna’s forearm. She yelped like a wounded animal and fell back onto the bed.

Michael looked around him. He heard a distinct buzzing noise in his ears. The surrealness of what he had just witnessed was overwhelming. He took a step further into the room, his eyes focused on his wife. She became conscious of his presence for the first time, even though he has been standing in the doorway for nearly five minutes.

Her eyes sparked to life once more and she screeched in a siren like voice, “ Please tell me I didn’t do it!”. With this said, she was overpowered by the sedative savagely given to her by the nurse. 

Rachel Terry (c) 2012.
The above work is the intellectual property of Rachel Terry. 
Please do not reproduce this work without the author's express written permission. 

Bitten

Those of you who are faithful readers of my blog may remember that a couple of months back I asked your opinion in deciding whether or not to post excerpts from the book I began writing about 3 years ago. I thank each and every one of you that responded. However, the opinion of Blog Land was decidedly split. So I ended up having to make the decision completely on my own anyway. Ha. As it happens, I have decided not to post excerpts. Though it is a very compelling story in that it actually happened, it is a story that was really for my own personal healing. I cannot bare my soul to the masses. 

HOWEVER.

I have recently been bitten again by the writing bug and the wheels have definitely started turning in the direction of a new novel. I haven't figured out much yet...but I do know that it will be a psychological thriller/mystery. I haven't started writing yet...in fact, I don't even have an outline...except what's in my head. But each time that I think about writing this book...the story line grows a little more in my mind. 

Even more exciting is that I have enlisted the help of my dear baby sister, whose imaginative abilities and creatively genius thought processes surpass my own by far. She will be my go-to idea person. 

Are you excited, Blog Land??

Haha.

I'm excited! 

Fuel for the Fire

Although there is always fuel for the blog fire in my world, I seem to be at a little bit of a loss as to what I should write. I'm once again tossing around the idea of posting excerpts from the book I started writing about 3 years ago. I have considered posting excerpts before...but I found that the subject was still too close to my heart and not ready to be exposed to the criticism of the masses. I probably have not picked up the manuscript in almost a year...maybe more. Even now, thinking about the things that I have written brings tears to my eyes. In some of the darkest days of my young life I poured my sadness, my anger, hurt, angst, brokenness, and devastation into the words on a page. 


I did it to cope. 


The bulk of the story is finished but what is lacking is a solid ending. I haven't written it because I can only write of what I know...the end remains unseen. I mean...the major event was resolved but, I hate to leave the story there. It's kind of hard to publish a story that doesn't end, but merely stops. 


I'm also hesitant to post excerpts because aside from a few facts thrown in to make it more fun, the book is based largely on events that actually happened. Names have been changed, but all those involved will probably recognize themselves in one character or another and the story line is unmistakably my life. It is not my intent to reflect anyone in a negative light...and I tried to be as fair as I could, however, some people may not like what they read. I would like to avoid starting World War III. 


*Sigh* 


What's a girl to do? I think I'm ready to share my book with the world...but...maybe the world isn't ready? 


What do you think? I'd love to have your input, faithful followers...


To Post or Not to Post...That is the Question!

To Finish or Not to Finish

So...the whole "starting a blog" thing has kinda got my brain itching to write again( imagine that). About 2 years I started writing a book(for self-therapeutic purposes) and have worked on it sporadically ever since. The book itself, except for the ending is finished, and I have already completed one round of editing. And there I've stopped. It's not that I have writer's block...I mean, the book is for the most part finished, and I would LOVE to get it published. I guess what I'm trying to figure out is if I have the emotional fortitude to pick through the topic of the book again. 

See, the book, ironically enough, closely mirrors some of my own personal experiences, which were at the time were some of the most painful things I've ever experienced. Being the person that I am, I used writing as an outlet for some of the surprisingly strong emotions I was feeling. Am I now emotionally distanced enough to go through the book again without being pulled back down into the rabbit hole of dangerous and life- threatening emotions that inspired it's writing in the first place? Am I? Or should I leave it as it is? Be grateful that it helped through a rough patch, see it for what is...a novel whose sole purpose was to help me keep my sanity, and leave it at that?

What do you think world? Should I blow the dust off of my trusty blue binder, pick up my favorite gel pen, and finish what I started? 

P.S.

If I get brave enough, I may post a few excerpts.