I’m sure everyone will be relieved to know that I have NOT given up on writing my novel. There’s still six or so active members of the year-long group over at Writer’s Village (out of a beginning class of 20) and two of them have finished a first draft. The bad news is that I’ve only finished three chapters out of an estimated 24, BUT the good news is that I’ve done enough planning and preparation so that I’m fairly sure of the plot and the vague outline of the next 21 chapters I have to write.
Here are a just a few of my favorite paragraphs:
Soledad fished one last beer out her cooler. Sitting together on the blanket, they passed the bottle back and forth to each other, pressing the cool glass against their foreheads and cheeks. They talked about the woman from the camper who’d left Johnny. She’d seemed old to be his mother and oddly unconcerned about abandoning a child, if that was she’d intended. Both Louella and Soledad were sure the camper had out-of-state plates, but neither had a clue about which state.
Around them, clusters of happy people feasted on roasted meat and the sticky sweet fruits of summer. Occasionally the pop and sizzle of a firecracker would erupt with the emotions of the day, and the sleeping boy, who slept with death-like stillness, would thrash convulsively and then return to his slumber. The women’s conversation drifted lazily from the craft co-op where Soledad had just leased a booth to sell her pottery to Louella’s attempts to get her mother to try email. Soledad was telling her about a free online phone service she used with a camera that transmitted her image as she talked when Johnny began to stir.
The boy sat up, rubbed his eyes and bleated like a lost lamb. Then he spotted Louella, crawled over and grabbed her hand. With his ragged hair and filthy clothes, Louella thought he couldn’t have been more unappealing but her heart went out to him. Looing deep into his sad brown eyes, she stroked his cheek and said, “It’s okay Johnny cakes, it’ll be all right.”
Here are a just a few of my favorite paragraphs:
Soledad fished one last beer out her cooler. Sitting together on the blanket, they passed the bottle back and forth to each other, pressing the cool glass against their foreheads and cheeks. They talked about the woman from the camper who’d left Johnny. She’d seemed old to be his mother and oddly unconcerned about abandoning a child, if that was she’d intended. Both Louella and Soledad were sure the camper had out-of-state plates, but neither had a clue about which state.
Around them, clusters of happy people feasted on roasted meat and the sticky sweet fruits of summer. Occasionally the pop and sizzle of a firecracker would erupt with the emotions of the day, and the sleeping boy, who slept with death-like stillness, would thrash convulsively and then return to his slumber. The women’s conversation drifted lazily from the craft co-op where Soledad had just leased a booth to sell her pottery to Louella’s attempts to get her mother to try email. Soledad was telling her about a free online phone service she used with a camera that transmitted her image as she talked when Johnny began to stir.
The boy sat up, rubbed his eyes and bleated like a lost lamb. Then he spotted Louella, crawled over and grabbed her hand. With his ragged hair and filthy clothes, Louella thought he couldn’t have been more unappealing but her heart went out to him. Looing deep into his sad brown eyes, she stroked his cheek and said, “It’s okay Johnny cakes, it’ll be all right.”
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