66,000 words, 265 pages!

    I don't think I realized what an accomplishment writing 265 pages is until I hit print. I have a HUGE stack of pages in front of me. Pages I wrote. Pages I breathed to life. Pages that exist because of endless hours writing late at night, writing between weekend events, writing to get my ideas on the page.

    It's easy to get boggled down in critiques and self-editing (which are both important), but it's refreshing to take a moment and realize what's accomplished. Writing is NOT easy. Those who think it is, have never written a fiction novel. I've learned so much these last few months from other writers and classes. Things I didn't realize about fiction: Don't dump back-story, get rid of adverbs and adjectives. Use strong verbs. Get rid of words like "that, just, was, even" etc. slowing pacing down. Writing is a whole new world with much to discover and learn.

    But for now, I want to savor every step of this journey. Appreciate where I've come and where I'm headed. My goal is to reach about 80-85,000 words to complete this novel. I'm almost there! And when that day comes, you bet I'm going to splurge. Heck, I'm going to Disneyland.

     And then, I'll be lost in revisions...lots of them...and then more revisions. It's all a part of this amazing journey--writing.

   

    

Writing Popular Fiction: The Storm

            Right now I'm taking a writing class at UCSD and absolutely love it! My professor, HelenKay Dimon is an experienced and published writer having over 35 successful novels. And as a bonus, we analyze all sorts of crazy characters from Monica on Friends to Clarissa in Silence of the Lambs.  Who wouldn't love a class where you talk about popular t.v. shows, movies, and books? Where was this class in high school? Seriously.

             Currently, I have been glued to the pages of my own manuscript. I'm up to 44,000 words and 170 pages.  But who's counting? My goal is to reach 75,000 words by the end of class in March. So far so good. I currently have an editor who is sifting through my first 50 pages and I'm both excited and nervous to get feedback. Excited to perfect my story, nervous if I have to rip most of it up. But hey, such is the life of a writer and I wouldn't have it any other way.

             For my Popular Fiction class at UCSD, I've been asked to write a scene about a married couple in a car with an approaching snow storm. My characters can come from any backgrounds, have kids or not, be rich or poor, happy or sad, whatever...but I need to give a sense of my characters through the setting of an incoming storm.  Fun!  So, with no further adieu. Here is my story:

***

               Silence. Except for the engine humming and splashes of slush as our tires swerve, he hasn’t said a damn thing.  I watch his fingers clench the wheel, squeezing. His body hunched over, glaring at the white road ahead. He knows.

                I yank a makeup compact from my Prada bag, searching the mirror for those purple-reddish marks, lip stick smears, or any strand of hair out of place. Nothing. Even the pink of my lip stick is perfectly in place. I drop the compact between my legs and sit there, picking at the skin around my fingers.  I hear his short, quick breaths. Turning away, I face the frosted window. Watching as snow trapped hills zoom by and thick chunks of snow hit. How does he know?

                Was I too obvious? Gone too long? Did someone tell him? I glance down at my wedding ring. It’s still there, always haunting me. I hit the button rolling down my window. A blast of cold, wet air slaps my face.  I rip the ring off, ready to fling it into a mound of snow, but his booming voice freezes me.

                “Mind rolling up the window? You’re letting all the warm air out?” 

                That’s all he’s got to say? Seriously.  “Glad to see you care about the important things.” I pull the ring inside, huffing. He rolls up the window.

                “What are you talking about?” He asks still staring at the road.

                “Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t you see me waving my wedding ring out the window?”

                “I’m watching the road Em. This storm’s pickin’ up. Stop playin’ games and buckle up.”

                I don’t believe it. “So, you’re not upset?”

                “I will be if you don’t fasten your seatbelt.” He grins. He doesn’t know.

                “Why the road rage?” I ask.

                “I’m just tryin’ to beat this storm and get us home safe. Are you not watchin’ this weather? By tomorrow, we won’t even be able to leave the house.”

 The belt clicks as I strap myself in and recline deep into the seat, stretching my legs to the dash.  I glance out the window watching snow kissed hills soar by and white confetti fall. He hasn’t got a clue.