It wasn’t really for writing, as it was just the hubs and me, but boy, oh boy.  I SO am going back specifically for writing.  It was so relaxing and something about the setting just made the creative juices flow.  I’ve started a new WIP and I got so many ideas just sitting on the porch.

Here is where we stayed:

So, yeah.  Going to the mountains is my prescription for all of you.

Also, I want to say that I was very encouraged by this past week.  So many people took a stand against something they didn’t believe in.  I think that’s awesome.

Oh, and if you want to read the summary for my new WIP (and the first bit, I have to add it later today as it’s not on this computer), it is under ‘what I’m writing’ and is titled DELILAH WAKES.  It’s a rough summary, but it gives you the basic idea.

Anyway, here is mine.  I’m bleeping out some language I used just in case.  Never know how many third grade students might decide to google their teacher. ;-)

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January 4, 2010

Ben hates me. We’re talking hard-core loathing here. It wasn’t like I meant to post those pictures on Facebook. In truth, a ninja jumped through my window and started throwing all sorts of crazy ninja stars at me. He used his mad persuasion skills to force me to upload them. Girl Scouts honor. The tagging and the tweets for people to go look at them was all me, though. I’ll admit it.

But Ben so deserved it. Lying, cheating, a**hole. A smart person wouldn’t leave pictures of themselves in their tighty-whiteys on their ex’s hard drive, especially if they decided to cheat on her with some sl*tty sophomore. They most certainly wouldn’t leave them if they were also wearing high heels and shaking their a** at the camera on a dare. People might start making assumptions.

Totally his fault, when you look at it that way, right?

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Just in case you were wondering, this was totally fabricated, okay?  No truth in it what-so-ever!!  I swear.  No seriously, Facebook wasn’t even around when I was in high school.  And that makes me feel old.

I did find my old Jr. High journal in which I professed my love for my now husband (he barely even knew I existed until I was 16).  He won’t let me throw it away, either, the bum.

This is what I entered:

            I had a hairy upper lip. My freaking lip was a giant fur ball. Well, that’s sexy. I moved in a little closer to the mirror to fully assess the fuzz.

            No wonder I didn’t have a boyfriend. Heat flooded my cheeks as I imagined what guys heard when they met me. “Hi, my name is Molly and my caterpillar lip greets you.” Oh, God.

            Maybe I was exaggerating a little. It was only a couple of hairs and not the hairy pelt I’d originally seen in my reflection. But still! So not attractive.

            Rolling my eyes, I turned away from the mirror and out of the employee bathroom. It looked like today’s tips were going to go towards depilatory cream. That was just awesome.

            It was only fitting that I would have the cruel genetic misfortune of inheriting my dad’s coloring and hair issues. It was such crap! When mom was seventeen, she’d been blonde-haired, blue eyed, with an eyebrow arch that would make Anastasia – esthetician to the stars – weep. But me?  Let’s just say she found the money for my bi-weekly eyebrow appointments. Guess I needed to add the lip to my waxing regime now. Damn.

TORN

I sucked in my breath as I inched closer to her, while staying hidden by the trees. This was no easy feat with the moon as bright as it was, but luck seemed to be on my side.

I continued my stealth crawl, making slow, but steady progress toward the edge of the forest. I was almost to my destination when I heard something large move beside me. Shit, spoke to soon.

A doe and her fawn walked out of the brush, snapping twigs with every step they took. The mother lifted her head as she caught my scent and stared directly into my eyes. I could read the fear in them as she registered what I was.

I know, I thought, I’m scared of me, too. They both leapt into the meadow and away from me as quickly as their legs would allow.

I sat frozen for what seemed like an eternity. Thankfully, the girl didn’t flinch at the deer’s sudden appearance. Her face remained resolute as she continued her gaze into the heavens.

Once I was sure she wouldn’t turn in my direction, I moved closer. I got near enough to smell her perfume mixed in with the scents of fall. That smell sent a shock of recognition through me that hit with an unbelievable force.

My Aubrey.

No, she wasn’t mine. Not anymore, anyway.

I tilted my head to the side as I examined her, trying to read the expression on her face. The moonlight caught a tear that trickled down her cheek.

That single tear nearly ripped my soul in two.

I almost called her name, but I was quickly reminded why I made the decision to join the darkness. I was dangerous and evil – the complete opposite of Aubrey. I shuttered as I looked down at my paws, taking in the gray fur and the claws that could rip a throat out in mere seconds.

It was ironic that sitting in the moonlight with her was one of my favorite pastimes. Then, I only saw beauty in the night. Now, I despised it and myself.

Aubrey lowered her head and sunk to the ground. Despite the sound of the wind, I could heard her whisper, “Beau…”

As my name disappeared into the night, I looked up at the moon that cursed me.

I felt it brewing in the depths of my chest, but could do nothing to stop it. I knew she would realize I was close, but I didn’t care. I howled a gut-wrenching goodbye.

So, here goes nothing!  I hope it works better this time around!

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She reached her hand up to smooth his black hair into place. “You know, you kind of look hot dressed like this. You might need to keep that T-birds jacket.”

“This is so wrong on so many levels,” she said in between kisses.

“Uh-huh…” he acknowledged without stopping.

They became completely engrossed with one another – so much so that they didn’t realize they were being watched.

Hidden behind the tombstone closest to the couple, a girl reached up and threaded her fingers into her hair. It was down to the middle of her back, so curling it had been no joke. She’d taken a lot of care to place the pins just so – crisscrossed little sections all along her scalp. It took her over an hour to get them in and she’d slept like a mummy so that they wouldn’t get displaced. It still had the perfect curl that it did the day she died.

Barbara watched the couple intently, enjoying a silent laugh at their costumes – they’d gotten it all wrong.

She glanced down at her own attire, which had been a yellow dress with perfect little buttons down the front when she was first buried. The crinoline under the skirt was intact in most places, but it had been torn and pulled over the years and the yellow that was once beautiful was now stained with dirt. Her enjoyment at their inept attempt at fifties dress quickly turned to fury.

Why was this Chloe girl allowed to have a life when she had been denied one?  Barbara and she looked about the same age, but Chloe was alive and was going to have experiences that she would never have.

Barbara’s own boyfriend, Harold, lured her out into the graveyard fifty-three years prior, to the day. She went along with it, ignoring the feeling in her gut telling her something was off. Harold started off as a gentleman, but his true nature revealed itself before the night was through.

He began with innocent kisses, but his intentions quickly turned sinister. She clawed and scratched to get away, all while he screamed at her and continued ripping her costume. In their struggle, she fell and hit her head on a grave marker and he left her to bleed to death. She’d taken care of Harold the first night she rose from the dead. That had been satisfying, but she’d grown lonely over the years.

No, she decided, this girl was not going to get to keep Jacob.

She grabbed the edges of her skirt and began slinking toward where the couple lay. Jacob was on top of Chloe, so she was the first to see her. Chloe’s eyes opened lazily at first, but when they rested on the ghostly figure, they grew wide with fear. She threw Jacob off of her and turned to run away. She’d sensed the danger, but Jacob stayed frozen on the ground.

She let Chloe escape – it wasn’t her she wanted.

She cocked her head to the side and grinned as Jacob turned to face her. His mouth dropped open in fear and the color drained from his face, but he didn’t run.

Oh yes, she thought, he was going to make a perfect forever boyfriend.

***Bonus points if you know where the picture came from***

Halloween Sucks

Another Halloween, I thought with disgust.

I reached up and threaded my fingers into my hair.  It was down to the middle of my back, so curling it was no joke.  I’d taken a lot of care to place the pins just so – crisscrossed little sections all along my scalp.  It took me over an hour to get them in and I had to sleep like a mummy so that they wouldn’t get displaced.  It still had the perfect curl that it did the day I died.

I should have been celebrating my 69^th birthday this year, but instead, I was eternally 16 – frozen like a Popsicle in the year 1956.

Thankfully, I was in a sort of limbo for the majority of the year and stayed oblivious to time continuing around me.  I guess some great being thought it would be a riot to have me rise again zombie-style on Halloween.  It was almost poetic, if you were Alfred Hitchcock. 

Normally, I saw no point in reliving Night of the Living Dead and I spent the holiday hidden by my tombstone, but that was going to change starting tonight.  I was sick of the hand I’d been dealt, and I was lonely.

As if on cue, I heard a girl and boy running through the cemetery, both giggling nervously. 

“Eek, Jacob!  This place is so creepy!”

“Yeah, that’s kind of the point,” he said, pulling her close to his side.  I stayed hunched close to the ground, hidden by the thickening fog. 

He was handsome in an all-American sort of way and she just looked fast.  Jacob ran his fingers along the girl’s face and leaned in to kiss her.  She sighed as she fell into his mouth. 

Why teenagers thought a cemetery was a good place to make out was beyond me, though that idea wasn’t a new one.  It’s what Harold had convinced me to do the night I was killed.

“I’ll protect you from the big, bad ghosts,” he’d reassured me.  If only he’d been able to.

I shuddered as the memories of that night flooded my mind, but forced myself to remain in the present.  The teen lovers were on the ground totally engrossed with one another.  I felt the corners of my mouth turn up in a sinister way. 

Pulling my skirt up a bit as I stood, I inched closer to them.  Jacob was on top of the girl, so she was the first to see me.  Her eyes lazily opened at first, but when they rested on my ghostly appearance, they grew wide with fear.  She threw Jacob off of her and turned to run away.  She’d sensed the danger, but he stayed frozen on the ground. 

I let her go – it wasn’t her I was interested in.

I cocked my head to the side and grinned as he turned to face me.  Oh yes, he was going to make a perfect forever boyfriend.

So, without further ado!

Nathan Bransford, a literary agent, is having a contest on his blog where you post the first paragraph of any work in progress. I thought, what the heck, might as well stick something in there! So, I entered the first paragraph of one of my Young Adult WIPs.

Voila! From the currently titled, Fuzz.

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I had a hairy upper lip. My freaking lip was brown and hairy. Well, that’s sexy. I moved in a little closer to the mirror to fully assess the fuzz. I pulled my lips together between my teeth and cringed as the light hit the hairs. No wonder I was single. I felt the blood rush to my cheeks as I realized what every boy heard when they met me. “Hi, my name is Claire and my hairy lip greets you.” Oh, God.