Observations: Today’s my “off” day so I actually wrote a little before getting out of bed and saved it to “the cloud” (please say that in your best movie trailer voice). And, then when I wanted to review it on my pc before uploading, well, the cloud wanted to rain on my parade, but I ain’t having it.
Also, I’ve momentarily switched back to the “classic” editor because I have too much to do to worry about disappearing green lines…or any other lines for that matter. When I have more time, I am going to play with it.
What the heck is NaNoWriMo? So, I guess there are some of you out there who don’t know exactly what NaNoWriMo’s goal is. It’s simple: write 50,000 words during the month. At the end, you may, or may not have a novel. It’s presumed that your novels aren’t going to be Hemingway or King or Rowling, because every day is an effort to meet a quota…I wonder if I can add these words. 😉 Sometimes you just have to follow where the spark is taking you, which I bet a lot of you do as you write although you don’t share it so we don’t know. That’s why I said that reading these installment could be like watching a bad wreck in progress. I don’t have the leisure (or ability) to edit your memory for what you’ve already read, so I’m pretty much asking you to keep reading and see where it goes…just as I’m doing as I’m writing.
When it’s going well, it’s so much fun. It’s the high of writing highs.
Disclaimer: If you read the above paragraphs, you know what’s coming: it’s a draft! It’s a daredevil passage to wretchedness. Read at your own risk.
Total word count: 20,436
I’m behind by 2902 words (and no, I didn’t include the ones above…dang); and look I could block one unit, make it a color and still have it appear when I publish. Love you classic editor! 😉
You can read previous sections here.
ps I will definitely have another entry today to perhaps catch up and get ahead? (Insert ROFLMAO) Let’s hope!
The day goes without a hitch although fewer than normal customers appear for the lunch service. By dinner, it’s back to normal. Everyone had to make sure there were no flying incidents or patrons being transformed, I suppose. Do I blame them? No, not at all.
The costumes my sisters and I usually wear for the annual Trunk and Treat in the regional library parking lot now are a little too on target for my tastes and I wonder why Mom and Gran ever thought they were appropriate. Of course, knowing them, they probably thought it was tongue in cheek and would never come back to bite them. Here we are again in our witches’ costumes. Amy, Rose, and I are in the typical flowy black ensembles with pointy hat, black stockings and two-inch heeled booties, while Isla is, of course, the sexy witch in a short black sheath that clings to her body, black evening gloves that make her creamy skin look even paler, and stiletto heels that I could walk in only with if I had crutches to keep me up. I can still remember Isla complaining that there was no way she was going to dress up like an old hag when she could be a young hag. Either way, Isla is certainly no hag and if the number of guys showing up just to look at her is indication, I’m not alone in that opinion.
Nikki, always a sister at heart, is dressed as a sexy cat familiar. Ironically, Rose’s raven is perched on the bare branch of an oak tree adjacent to the parking lot while my familiar dog is soaking up all of the attention a well-behaved dog can get. Neither Isla nor Amy have mentioned a familiar yet, which seems strange. Or at any rate as strange as things have become lately.
Again, all of this makes me feel jittery, especially when I notice the blond tower sitting on a park bench across the street, eating an apple and watching us. I haven’t seen him since the day of the accident and then wonder if he’s seen me, perhaps while lurking in my woods. I have half a mind to go over and talk to him.
“That’s just what a half mind would do,” Familiar dog whispers in my head. I roll my eyes.
Nikki frowns. “What’s that about? Did I miss something?”
“Nope. Dog thinks she’s amusing.” I almost said “familiar” dog and would have ended up trying to talk my way out of that. While I’d trust Nikki with my life, I’m not yet about to trust her with this secret. She might not mean to say anything, but Nikki’s brain and tongue are not always on the same path.
“Oh,” Nikki says. “I didn’t see her do anything. Are you ever going to give her a name? I’m surprised no one is looking for her, a pretty and well-trained dog like her. If she were mine, I’d never stop looking for her.”
“I like your ditzy friend,” Familiar dog says, going up to nuzzle Nikki’s hand.
Rosemead’s annual Trunk and Treat is mostly for the kids in the outlying areas of town where the houses are too far apart for actual trick or treating. All of the cars are decorated with some theme. Isla’s pick up truck looks like a haunted house with flickering purple solar light draped around the cardboard doorway at the end of the bed. Nearby there’s a castle with Mitzi as a princess who keeps giving us the evil eye as if she expects us to cast a spell. I’d say: if she only knew, but after the soup incident I probably don’t have to.
Later, after Trunk and Treat, Gran wants us to meet at Mom’s. She thinks we should bring in the day of the dead together. I think I need to be home in bed because tomorrow will be the day of the walking dead, me obviously, if I don’t get my required number of hours sleep. Late night partying ended as soon as I opened Soup’s On. A colleague at the culinary school I attended told me that’s why cocaine was invented, for chefs who wanted to party and create masterpieces. I thanked him very much for the information and continued with my drug-free existence. I much preferred getting enough sleep and finding my energy in the dark roast variety. One cup every morning bounces me through the rest of the day.
The Thurmount Trio begins to play music, their eclectic blend of alternative with bluesy, country, and rock influences. Right now, they’re doing a breathy, sexy version of “Black Magic Woman.” My theme song, I think with a laugh. Familiar dog snorts. I can see that this dog is always going to be in my corner.
The games are begin, with people lining up to play the cornhole game, a field version of twister, and a variety of games taking place on big inflatables that look like fun. Trunk and Treat is officially underway.
I look toward the park and see the blond tower is no longer observing us. I glance around figuring that someone of his height couldn’t pass unnoticed even in a crowd. Knowing that Nikki and my sisters have everything well under control—what could possibly go wrong? although I should be afraid to consider—I wander around wondering what he’s up to. Suddenly, I begin humming that Appalachian Christmas carol “I Wonder as I Wander” while smirking.
“Your self-amusement knows no boundaries, I see,” Familiar dog says.
“Is that you, Sophie?” I don’t need to turn around to know who belongs to that accented voice, but I do if I want to look at his face and sigh.
Heath isn’t in much of a costume. In fact, the one addition is an eye-patch, while the rest of him is dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt that shows off tattooes and muscles and almost has me swooning, if I were a swooning-type of girl. He’s wearing black boots and looks like a sexy, although visually impaired, biker dude. Funny, I wouldn’t have thought my tastes ran that way. You learn something new everyday.
“Heath, hey,” I say. “Cool outfit.”
“Yeah? Gran said I couldn’t come without a costume. A friend of mine tells me that this is straight out of Sons of Anarchy.”
“Killer charisma,” Familiar dog says. “And I believe I mean that literally.”
I raise an eyebrow at familiar dog, very glad that no one else can hear her, and wonder what she means about literal killer charisma. Does that mean Heath Lawrence is a killer?
“If that’s really the name he’s going by,” Familiar dog inserts.
Heath looks at familiar dog. “Great looking pup,” he says, leaning down to rub her ears. “Yours?”
“Maybe,” I say.
“She’s a stray. I might have to take her to the shelter if I decide I can’t keep her.” That last is said directly to familiar dog although she does her doggy shrug and make a noise that sounds a lot like a snort. Terrific, now she snorts at me. The next thing you know she’ll be smirking, and then I’ll think I’m in a Men in Black movie. Are we all aliens?
“Chill, sweetheart. You’re a witch. I’m a familiar. Your dude here is black ops. No aliens yet on the scene.”
Heath glances from familiar dog to me curiously.
end of Day 13