NANOWRIMO - Day 9

Rocking out to "The One That Got Away" by Katy Perry 

(picture the swivel desk chair swaying, the head bobbing, and a couple other loose body parts swinging to the music...or not)

That's because tonight when I shut down my NaNoWrimo project I'd hit 18,644 words! I'm pattin' my back (okay barely over my shoulder - damn when did my 'flexibility' vanish? I swear, this body needs a tune up!)

Mr. Callahan returned in all his glory. He sat in the bleachers watching volleyball tryouts. After someone went through the routine, he'd hold up a card with a number rating them from 1-10. You got it. The jiggle test! Zoe, however, only rated an 8, which disappointed her, surprising both of us. Tom said she cheated by wearing a sports bra. We also found out in tonight's chapter, that Tom has a side of his life he keeps hidden, until Zoe draws it out of him, forming a bond that will play a big part later. Here's Tom's revelation in tonight's excerpt:

Tom lowered his head, scraping at a fingernail. "We need the money, or did until he lost his job. Now he just sits in the house and drinks, waiting for his unemployment to run out. He's a mean bastard when he's drunk."

A squirmy feeling twisted in my stomach. My next question came out on a whisper. "Does he hurt you or…your mom?"

"Sometimes." Tom's voice cracked and I heard his hard swallow. "Me mostly. I let him take his anger out on me before Mom comes home. She doesn't deserve to be smacked around for nothing."

"Neither do you!" 

 "I can take it. He's a puncher. Stays away from my face most of the time. Sometimes he's so drunk he's passed out by the time I get home." 

Of course once his tough guy facade melts away, he pays Zoe the ultimate compliment, for him, anyway.

"Thanks, Zoe." Tom said softly. "By the way, you're anything but an '8'. You're off the charts."

THE JOY IS IN THE JOURNEY

Current listen :  "Summer is Over" courtesy of Jon McLaughlin

Walk with me this morning. Bundle up in your favorite sweatshirt, sturdy shoes, and bring a mug of filled with something to warm you. For me, that's heating my cream and sugar with a smidgen of coffee. Not sure which rush I'm going for - caffeine or sugar.

The air is crisp, cool and slightly biting in the early morning hours. The sun is just starting to stretch its long golden fingers into the lavender heavens, threading through a puff of white here and there, turning the sky an apricot blush. You take a sip of your hot morning brew, savoring the warmth trickling down the back of your throat. A sigh of contentment forms a misty puff around your mouth. Beneath your feet, leaves fallen from the grace of the trees that once gave them life, form a colorful carpet over the dark loam of the forest floor. As you step, they crinkle and bend at whim.

Overhead, blue jays play a game of tag and squirrels bustle between branches with their latest stash tucked in their cheeks to hide for a cold winter's day. The air is heavy with the scent of pine and summer's decay, and the evergreen branches bow in the breeze as if you were royalty walking through Nature's court.

Yesterday, October tapped September's shoulder with a ghostly finger and whispered "it's time for you to go."  September whisked quietly away, stealing Summer in its retreat, and October settled in. Marked with crackling anticipation as the first scene in a three act play, taking us through a whirlwind of activity (draining our financial resources in the process) and filling us with childlike expectations of the holiday season fast approaching. October plays a soundtrack of melancholy memories of childhood, loved ones who have passed but left an indelible bruise on our heart and smile on our lips, along with a bittersweet knowledge that another year is coming to a close. Halloween, with its mystical powers at the hands of ghosts, goblins, and frolicking witches, will mark October's flamboyant exit and usher in November, full of mouthwatering anticipation of pumpkin pie and a turkey feast. When Thanksgiving leaves us grateful for the small things we take for granted, November will bow respectfully, as December, in all its grandeur enters. From there, folks, its all downhill, but the "ride" will be exhilarating, glamorous, and leave another page of our life written for the next generation to stand witness of.

October 1st marks another special day, for me, anyway. Last year on October 1st, I officially launched my career as a writer. I called myself an author, I'd finished my first manuscript and was ready to send my "baby" out. I attended my first writing conference, met agents and publishers, and actually pitched Designer Genes, resulting in a request for three chapters. I also got my first rejection.

The other amazing thing last October gave me, was an amazing group of writer friends I'd never have met if I hadn't embarked on this wonderful journey. I belong to two big ones, Romance Writers of America and Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators, but its the smaller chapters formed under these power houses that I enjoy. My Utah chapter of RWA connected me with all the "author celebrities," but they gathered me under their wing and fed me worms to nourish me on my way to "flight." The talent these members have astonishes me and the way they support each other beyond the scope of writing is phenomenal. I love being counted among them.

Another smaller, intimate group, holds a special place in my heart. The "Writing Divas" were hatched from an online class given my well-known author, Eliza Knight. We were all "fledglings," morphing into something we hadn't quite figured out. A couple members had published and served as "seeing eye dogs" to the rest of us. When the class ended, our friendships didn't. We wanted to stay connected, so we formed our own writers' group, with the intention of critiquing. However, it has served more as a cheerleading squad, a shoulder to lean on, and comedic relief. It's a place where we try on our different author hats to get an opinion, before showing the world. We got our feet wet together learning to blog, create websites, and share news both personal and professional. What's amazed me, is watching these ladies complete their metamorphosis. Knowing I get to read completed stories from the glimpses I fell in love with in writing class is exciting. October 1st last year, the group was created and is still going strong. I hope our relationship lasts a very long time, and maybe one day, we'll actually get to meet in person. 

Belonging to these amazing organizations has taught me something. While my dream is to become a renowned published author, my unexpected joy has been in the journey. The goal to be published is the pot of gold at the end of rainbow, filled with colors that take my breath...just like the experiences along the way to my goal.

If I could share one thing, it would be to remind you not to focus so much on the destination that you miss the "scenery" along the way. That's what makes a trip memorable. All the little stops along the way to learn something new, see something different, discover something new about yourself. Enjoy the journey on the way to making your dreams come true. Be grateful for those who help you along the way, even if it's just to open the door to your next adventure. Hard as we may try, we can't go it alone. Goodbye September. Hello October! Who knows what I'll get in my "trick-or-treat" bag this year. 

Pause, reflect, remember, and find joy in your journey.

As always, thanks for stopping by.  Harley Brooks today...wearing her witchy hat!

WACKY WEDNESDAY...The Anatomy of a Kiss...

Riley's Pond

Note:  Be careful looking for pictures under "kissing."  Talk about an education!

So. What's in a kiss?  Do you remember your first one? Honestly, I don't. Must have been "memorable."  I do remember different kisses, or I should say "kissers."  So...

1.  Are "bad boys" better kissers than "nice boys?" 

Well, face it. They've got experience going for them - the talent perfected. Knew a couple of  "boys of questionable character" and yes...they were excellent kissers.  However, something about the innocence of the tentative kiss made it "special."  Nice boys (or the ones my mother preferred) were always a bit more shy, or as she put it..."respectable."  Want to kill a romance quick? Have your mother comment on your goodnight kiss. "He seems like such a nice boy. He didn't try to suck your face off."  The guy could send me roses dipped in chocolate and I wasn't going out with him again. Ever.

2.  Lips soft or firm? Full or thin?

Dated a guy once I really liked. I could almost see him in my future if it wasn't for his kisses. Lips were "lifeless." Code blue. Dead and limp. When he french kissed me I swear his lips disappeared entirely, and that was with a full set of teeth. Imagine fifty years later and dentures. Fact of life, your lips shrink as you age.  If a guy hasn't got good "lipage" when he's young, you're pretty much raking teeth later. If they're dentures, you'll be knocking them out if you put too much force on the oral cavity.  Something about that fake pink plastic with a set of chompers attached falling into your mouth, could be one hell of a mood killer.

3.  How much is "too much?"

I enjoy deep, heady kisses. Oh my, just the thought triggers a hot flash! But when a kiss becomes a search for my internal organs, my nose pushed to the back of my skull, and my cheeks sucked out from the inside, I'm pretty much flailing my arms to signal the paramedics. I prefer to breathe the air from my own lungs, not share what's inside some guy's lungs! If I'm left gasping for air and reaching for a towel after being "devoured," you can bet I'll be busy for the next hundred years if called by the "roto-rooter guy" again.

4.  Do you like his tongue in your mouth or yours inside his? 

A "power position" play.  Depends. If it's the cousin of the guy in #3, I might exercise my "right to bite."

Okay, it's "sharing time." Popcorn dripping with real butter is on the table to the side of the lazy boy. Get comfortable.

I dated a boy "exclusively" for almost six months before I let him french kiss me.  Not that I was a prude, but because I didn't know how.  My mother, bless her heart (you know if you repeat this before saying something derogatory about someone, it doesn't count as a sin), told me all about sex before I was thirteen, but never explained the finer points of intimate "kissing."

Note to parents here. Tell your child about sex, and they can't wait to share! Scene setup:  Slumber party at my BFF's house for her thirteenth birthday and eight giggly girls in sleeping bags. I was busting at the seams with anticipation of sharing my news. When I explained the "details" of how this mysterious ritual is performed, all manner of gagging sounds were performed. I'd traumatized an entire neighborhood. My mother must have received several chastising calls the next day, because of course, I blamed her. 

However, my mother never told me about "french kissing."  So when I sensed my boyfriend's frustration at my locked lips and clenched teeth, I decided to consult the experts - my cabin mates at church camp. They may have forbade face cards and gambling, but there were no rules regarding discussing forbidden subjects.

When I posed my question to my peers, hysterical laughter ensued for at least thirty minutes.  After my bunkmates realized I was serious, but couldn't put me in a wax museum, they each proceeded to give me "instructions."  His tongue inside my mouth?  Gross!  Swapping spit seemed like the most unromantic thing ever!
 

A week later when I returned home, my boyfriend arrived that evening for our usual Friday night date. Little did I know that my secret tutoring session had made its way to his ears earlier that afternoon.  His eyes sparkled with anticipation.  He kissed me carefully a few times, then decided to go for the kill. I opened my mouth and allowed passage. Bile licked the back of my throat! No way! My brain yelled abort, abort!  But it was too late. My mouth was not longer "virgin territory."  After a few minutes, I was a "tongue slut." And he was such a "nice boy...."

Designer Genes

Romance writers are the professionals at describing the anatomy of a kiss.  Hands wrapping the back of the neck...fingers braiding into hair...noses grazing...lips sliding tentatively against each other...tongue teasing lips to open...lips blossoming against each other...  When you are through reading the lines of the first kiss between a hero and heroine, you are forever spoiled. My husband loves it when I'm writing a romantic scenes! 

5.  How do you like to be held in a kiss?

Do you prefer arms around you? Hands wrapping your neck or framing your waist? For me they all work, but "tenderly." I don't like to be crushed.  I want to walk away without injury and still have my skeletal composition in the correct limbs.  Rearranging my spine doesn't work for me.

I like the way John Mayer said it in his song...Your Body is a Wonderland.

....I'll never let your head hit the bed

Without my hand behind it.... 

Kissing is a universal language.  You don't have to press "1" to get it in English. 

What's in a kiss?  Emotion and endless meanings.  Quick and on the cheek:  friendly, caring; on the side of your head:  compassion or apology; on the forehead:  farewell; on the neck:  I want you; on the lips:  romance, love.

What's in a kiss for you? Was your first kiss awkward, embarrassing, or "over-the-moon."  Whatever a kiss means to you, keep giving them. A simple gesture, wielding a lot of power.  An action saying everything without uttering a word.

   Imagine all the "prince charmings" in the world waiting for a kiss! Come on, what's the worst that can happen?  It's just a kiss...or is it?



As always...thanks for stopping by.  I'm off to do some lip lock (done to the tune of "I'm off to see the wizard"...)