This week’s random Wednesday topic is a peek behind the scenes of my current project. I haven’t been super productive lately, or productive at all, but I’m going to give you a sneak peek of the project I WANT to be working on.
This story came about from a photo flash fiction prompt last year. If you’re interested and want to read the story that started it all, click here. I think this is going to end up being the prologue, or maybe some sort of flashback. I definitely want it in the story somewhere.
The main location of the story is a bed and breakfast in New England, I see a house in my mind kind of like this:
I also have a pictures in my head for a few key characters. The main character is Abigail, a widow who moves out East to start over. For her, I picture someone very girl-next-door, wholesome, sweet.
For her deceased husband (who I realize isn’t actually in the book but still plays a large part), I didn’t have a specific person in mind. Not someone famous anyway, but a certain look for sure. This character is based on someone I knew in high school, but we’ll need to add some curly hair.
For the dashing doctor, Kyle, non other than the beautiful Chris Pine. Let’s all just take a minute to appreciate those eyes.
And finally, for Abigail’s new friend Maya, who brings a wonderful group of people into Abby’s life:
This is basically just the most beautiful town ever, obviously.
I’m not sure what else I can say about the story at this point. I guess it would be categorized as a contemporary romance, my first foray into that area. Up until now I’ve focused mainly on YA. I’m probably a third of way through the first draft and I’d really like to finish it by the end of the year. That’s my goal.
See what the other bloggers are working on, and say hello to our newest blogger, Torrance!
“So, this is it, huh?”
“Seems like it.”
Daniel reached over and took my hand as we watched the scene unfold below us. People were running every direction, panic clear in the way they rushed about with seemingly no purpose other than to get as far away as possible. We could hear crying and screams, although from this distance no actual words made it through.
“Is this really the right way, Daniel? Are we supposed to just watch this happen?”
We both looked at the sky as the clouds visibly gathered and darkened, almost as though we were watching a time lapse film of a storm moving.
“You know the rules, Hannah. We are simply here to observe. That has always been our job. We do not interfere. We watch.”
He was right, I knew the rules. We’d been following them for long enough, but this was, I don’t know if heartbreaking was the right word. Senseless, maybe. Pointless. And still, we watched.
As one we turned to the east at the sound of an explosion. Daniel watched dispassionately as a large warehouse exploded, for no reason I could see, sending large pieces of flaming roof pouring down over the people trying to flee.
We could so easily help, get people to safety. Even stop the gathering storms if we were so inclined. But those weren’t the rules. With a crack of thunder the clouds burst open and a torrential rain fell, flooding streets. We saw people and cars washed away like so much debris and still, we did nothing.
Abruptly I realized Daniel was no longer by my side, but standing in front of me, blocking my way. “I can feel your indecision, Hannah. And if I can, so can the others. Do you want Raphael to come down here? Or Michael? It will be so much worse for these people if our brothers decide to become personally involved.”
He was right, Daniel was always right.
“Why create something like this only to destroy it?” I asked. The age old question, one we’ve asked time and again. Looking into the distance, far beyond what the people below could see, there was more smoke, more rain, more destruction. It was a never ending hellscape.
“It’s time to leave. We’ve seen all we need to,” Daniel said, gesturing toward the scene behind him. “Nothing is going to stop this now, that’s all we had to see to.”
I wanted to cry for these people, cry and scream about the unfairness of what happening to them. But I couldn’t, crying was impossible for me. And screaming would no good, in fact it would only make things worse. The kindest thing to do for them was to leave them on their own.
As one, we turned, our wings effortlessly lifting us into the sky. It was time to leave. Daniel was right, there was nothing more to watch. The apocalypse had come, those that were meant to survive would. And so would we. After all, angels were forever.
Check out the links to below to see what the other bloggers came up with:
Today’s post is a Promptly Penned topic. We all have same two lines to inspire us and/or to include somewhere in our post.
Person A: “How long have you been standing there?”
Person B: “Longer than you’d like.”
“How long have you been standing there?”
“Longer than you’d like. Long enough to see you bust out some serious 80’s dance moves. What was that?”
I could feel the blush starting in my neck and creeping up my face. What was it about this girl? Every time I saw her, I managed to make a fool of myself. It was like some force in the universe was playing a joke on me.
“Aw, come on Amy,” she said, laughing. “Don’t be embarrassed. It was cute. In a dorky, Girls Just Wanna Have Fun, kind of way.”
“What do you want, Mellie?” I tried to sound as impatient as possible. I wanted to make her think I hadn’t been dying for her to stop by all day. That I hadn’t been thinking of every reason possible to stay in my dorm room, so she’d be able to find me. I went back to folding my laundry, like she was interrupting my incredibly important task.
Mellie flopped down on the end of my bed, disturbing my carefully stacked pile of clothes. I shot her an annoyed look but she just smiled at me. She knew she was cute.
“So,” she finally said. “Are you going to ask me out at some point, or do I have to keep making a nuisance of myself?”
The look on my face must have been priceless, and Mellie thoroughly enjoyed it based on the huge grin she couldn’t hide.
“Well, um, yeah, so…”
She motioned for me to continue when my voice drifted off.
Clearing my throat, I tried again. “Do you want to maybe go to dinner? With me?”
“Oh my god, Amy!” Mellie threw her arms around me neck and pulled me close. “I thought you’d never ask.” Smiling she leaned in and kissed me.
Check out where this prompt took the other bloggers:
This week’s topic is an angry letter to anyone or anything we want. I thought for a long time about the subject of this letter, and last night while I was trying to fall asleep, it came to me. Gizmo.
Gizmo is my neighbor’s dog. I can’t get a picture of Gizmo without looking super creepy and stalkery, so we’ll just substitute in this one:
The Gizmo that lives next door is not that cute. He (or she) is some sort of tiny mutt that’s black and white (dirty, dingy white), with a Mohawk. But not even a cute Mohawk. It’s a dumb Mohawk. The neighbors (otherwise known has Creepy Old Dude and his Wife) tie Gizmo to the front door to let it out, which ends up being next to our drive way. So when we park and get out of the car, we are treated to a lots of high-pitched, angry barking. Or, when we go out on our front porch. Or take our dog out at night for a last bathroom break. Or, as happened last night that prompted this post, our dog and Gizmo saw each other through our living window which started a barking/beagle howling battle at 10:30 at night. Awesome.
I’ve never been a dog person per se, I’m more of one now that I have a dog. I’ve gotten to like many more of them in general.
I severely dislike Gizmo.
I guess this wasn’t so much of a angry letter. Here, I’ll end on a short one.
Dear Stupid Gizmo,
Don’t choke on a bone or anything.*
*I would like to point out that I would never wish or condone harm on an animal, but that is the most annoying little bastard of a dog.
I’ve been missing in action for a little while, but I’m trying to get back on the bandwagon, starting with this week’s Wednesday post…What I Wanted to be When I Grew Up.
I was a little all over the place when I was a kid.
I wanted to be a marine biologist for a long time. Not to work at a place like SeaWorld. But to work with dolphins or whales in the ocean. That was, of course, before I stopped swimming in natural bodies of water. But that’s another story.
Then there was my FBI phase. That lasted quite a while. And I’m not sure where it came from, maybe The X-Files. I think it fizzled out about the time I told my mom about it and she laughed at me.
I think maybe I wanted to be a writer, but that was a little too abstract for me as a kid. Although I’m not sure why.
I did go through a serious phase where I wanted to be a photographer for National Geographic. I think that one might still be going on. But I’m not that good at photography.
I can tell you I damn sure never wanted to be an accountant. But if I could be as cool as this guy…
Yet somehow, that’s where I ended up. For now at least.