spoiled by sunshine

this writing journal is mostly friends only. if you'd like to read it, please comment here and i'll be happy to add you.

"You're deluding yourself!" he shouted so emphatically that he was almost spitting.

"Honestly, Reg, would you just give it a rest?"

He stared at her across the table, unblinking, his hands flat and splayed as if he was preparing to leap out of his seat. "Clara, you know I love you, right?" he said, tapping one forefinger gently. "You know I am not trying to start shit with you, here. God, I'm just trying to get you to think!"

Clara bit her lip, holding back those tears she hated, the ones that always seemed to surface when they talked about this.

"I am thinking, Reg. I don't go to that 'shitty' church anymore, I told you that." She made quotation marks with her fingers to emphasize his favorite word. "I found a new one, a better one..."

"That doesn't mean jack shit to me, Clara. Think of it this way. Say there's this guy who drinks beer every night until he's completely shitfaced. He starts to realize his life is going to hell, so he signs up for a shrink. The shrink tells him his problem is that he's becoming a raging alcoholic and he should stop drinking beer or he's gonna end up sitting by the town hall, begging for spare change. The guy's like 'fine, I'll stop drinking beer,' so he goes home and starts drinking straight vodka instead."

Clara stared back at him, her eyes narrowing. "I never thought my life was going to hell," she said. "That was just you." And she rose, pushing her chair in forcefully, and then the only sound left in the room was the ringing vibration of a slammed door.

i scribbled a love song you would never read
on the inside of a toilet stall

~~~

i have never
written a poem
with the word "blood" in it
and i can't tell
if this
is a good
or a bad
thing

~~~

10:30pm
i'm driving downtown
and all these people keep
waving their hands at me.
i think it's some
obscene gesture
i don't know.

after the third one,
i realize they're just
telling me to turn my headlights on.

so, i'm at over 58,000 words on my WIP. i'm expecting it to be about 60,000 words, so this is really exciting for me. i mean, i've never finished the first draft of a novel before. ;alksdjf;alskdf

that said, there are already some things that i want to change about it. people say that you're supposed to shelve your first draft for a couple weeks before going back to it, but i think i may make a few changes first before i do that, just because i'm really impatient. of course i have a few other things i need to work on this week, so maybe it won't be possible anyway.

right now, i'm listening to bark cat bark, which sets the perfect mood for my WIP. seriously. mostly experimental instrumental stuff; this guy plays like 30 instruments, it's insane. i can't believe he's only 19 years old! but seriously, this is like a soundtrack for my story. if you haven't listened to any of his music before, do yourself a favor. i've uploaded a compilation of some of his stuff here if you want to download it. you can also find some individual songs for download on his last.fm. my favorite tracks are "spring in sacramento" and "iceland." :)

anyway, over at absolute write they have a little something called "teaser tuesday," where a bunch of YA writers share little bits of their current projects. i wanted to get in on the action, so! to celebrate the creation of my new writing journal, here's an excerpt from hollow valley, my WIP. it's hard to describe what this novel's about--basically, there's this girl who's lived in a hole in the ground her entire life and then she finds out she's supposed to save the world. joseph campbell would eat it up. this particular excerpt shows her leaving the hole for the first time:

( TEASER TUESDAY )

i wrote this particular excerpt like 2 years ago, so i'm sure it's a little rough. let me know if you have any comments/questions/suggestions, whatever.

(btw, this post is public now, but it'll go friends only in about a week or so).

"My love for you is like a toilet," he said, brushing her hair softly behind her ear.

Her expression hardened in a flash, and she backed away from his hand, bringing her knees up in front of her. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Honey, it's..." He tightened his lips, his eyes searching some faraway space before he looked back at her. "Think of it this way. Sometimes when I sit on a toilet, it's because of something I can't really control. And it's painful. It hurts. Physically, it hurts. But after it happens, I feel better than I've ever felt before in my life. I think, at times, I have literally worshipped the toilet. The same way I worship you right now."

She was still removed, her hand raised in midair as she decided what she wanted to do with it. It inched slowly backwards, but then her eyes flickered, and she reached forward. "I think..." she said hesitantly, placing the tips of her fingers on his face, "that's the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me." And then she kissed him. They fell backwards onto the blanket under the half-moon, trapping the fabric between their feet as they writhed.