Laura Chapman's Blog, page 52
November 13, 2013
little laura gets worms
Blogger's Note: Thanks to my family's pack-rat tendencies -- and my vanity -- I've
managed to keep documentation of my progress as a writer from
kindergarten on. Instead of letting those cedar chest gems go to waste, I
figured I might as well do what I do best -- post them to my blog. This is Little Laura Learns the Ropes.
No. 18: Write about having a worm for a pet.
Date: May 1993
Age: 6
Oh brother. Where to begin? I know you're six year's old, Little Laura, but his reads more like hieroglyphics than a short story or essay.
I can understand misspelling tunnel. Kind of. And at least the spelling you chose for that word shows you were trying to sound it out. But what the hell do you mean by "work herted?"
Were you saying work hard? That's the only thing that makes sense, but I can't figure out how you got where you did with that spelling.
I'm not even going to touch the missing punctuation at the end. You can at least end your sentences with a period, LL.
Your vocabulary could also use some development. You opened with "good" twice in one sentence. Asking you to say "awesome pet" and "fertile soil" would probably be asking too much, but I think we can do better than a double good.
I'm also trying to figure out what's funny about a hard-working worm making a tunnel. You realize that's what they do, right, Little Laura? They make tunnels. (And fish bait.) Here's a lesson for you, girlfriend. Working isn't funny to watch unless it's scripted TV, like The Office or Workaholics. Otherwise, it's just work.
And even on the best days, work doesn't have as many laughs as you'd like.
Nice illustration, by the way. I'm guessing that's a worm farm. Or a really fat worm. Either way, this whole concept makes me think of Harry and Lloyd's future dream business, I Got Worms.
This will be the last "Little Laura" series post. After covering more than a
decade of my "early work," I feel like we've checked out enough skeletons in my closet for now. Does this mean we'll never see Little Laura again? Not necessarily. When the time is right, I'm sure she'll come back to us.
For the series finale, I selected a leftover selection from the early days. I
figured it would make a nice comparison to show where we started five
months ago. Plus, how could I resist using a headline like "Little Laura Gets Worms."
I've appreciated the kind comments and support along the way. These old writing clips always made me smile when I stumbled across them during spring cleaning sessions or when moving. And it was fun to share them with you and laugh at myself along the way. I'm grateful for the opportunity to give these cedar box keepsakes a second life with this series.
Grown-up Laura also learned some important lessons from Little Laura. We all have to start somewhere. The path to becoming a better writer never ends. It's something you always have to work at. And it's important to never take yourself too seriously. In fact, it's good to laugh at yourself. It's better than crying.
Thank you for following this adventure with me. We -- like my writing -- have come a long ways.
Receive Change the Word's latest updates in your Inbox. Subscribe by
entering your information under "Follow by email" in the sidebar. Follow
me on Twitter @lmchap or "Like" Change the Word on Facebook.
managed to keep documentation of my progress as a writer from
kindergarten on. Instead of letting those cedar chest gems go to waste, I
figured I might as well do what I do best -- post them to my blog. This is Little Laura Learns the Ropes.
No. 18: Write about having a worm for a pet.
Date: May 1993
Age: 6
A worm would be a good pet because it would make my soil good. It make a tunol so it would be funny. It would work herted
Oh brother. Where to begin? I know you're six year's old, Little Laura, but his reads more like hieroglyphics than a short story or essay.
I can understand misspelling tunnel. Kind of. And at least the spelling you chose for that word shows you were trying to sound it out. But what the hell do you mean by "work herted?"
Were you saying work hard? That's the only thing that makes sense, but I can't figure out how you got where you did with that spelling.
I'm not even going to touch the missing punctuation at the end. You can at least end your sentences with a period, LL.
Your vocabulary could also use some development. You opened with "good" twice in one sentence. Asking you to say "awesome pet" and "fertile soil" would probably be asking too much, but I think we can do better than a double good.
I'm also trying to figure out what's funny about a hard-working worm making a tunnel. You realize that's what they do, right, Little Laura? They make tunnels. (And fish bait.) Here's a lesson for you, girlfriend. Working isn't funny to watch unless it's scripted TV, like The Office or Workaholics. Otherwise, it's just work.
And even on the best days, work doesn't have as many laughs as you'd like.
Nice illustration, by the way. I'm guessing that's a worm farm. Or a really fat worm. Either way, this whole concept makes me think of Harry and Lloyd's future dream business, I Got Worms.
This will be the last "Little Laura" series post. After covering more than a
decade of my "early work," I feel like we've checked out enough skeletons in my closet for now. Does this mean we'll never see Little Laura again? Not necessarily. When the time is right, I'm sure she'll come back to us.
For the series finale, I selected a leftover selection from the early days. I
figured it would make a nice comparison to show where we started five
months ago. Plus, how could I resist using a headline like "Little Laura Gets Worms."
I've appreciated the kind comments and support along the way. These old writing clips always made me smile when I stumbled across them during spring cleaning sessions or when moving. And it was fun to share them with you and laugh at myself along the way. I'm grateful for the opportunity to give these cedar box keepsakes a second life with this series.
Grown-up Laura also learned some important lessons from Little Laura. We all have to start somewhere. The path to becoming a better writer never ends. It's something you always have to work at. And it's important to never take yourself too seriously. In fact, it's good to laugh at yourself. It's better than crying.
Thank you for following this adventure with me. We -- like my writing -- have come a long ways.
Receive Change the Word's latest updates in your Inbox. Subscribe by
entering your information under "Follow by email" in the sidebar. Follow
me on Twitter @lmchap or "Like" Change the Word on Facebook.
November 12, 2013
a one-of-akind writing scarf
Blogger's Note: Author Jayne Denker is on tour with Chick Lit Plus for her novel,
Unscripted
. I asked her to share one of her writing rituals, but first, here's the scoop on her novel:
My One-of-a-Kind Writing Scarf
By Jayne Denker
Guest blogger
It’s seven o’clock on a weekday morning. I’ve managed to rouse my son (no mean feat), and I’ve made sure he’s accomplished all the necessary morning tasks: Dressed? Check. Fresh underwear? One can only hope. Groomed? Check, although I take another couple of swipes at his mop of hair with the brush, just for good measure. Fed, watered, jacketed, tromboned, backpacked? Check, check, check, check. Forty minutes later, I try not to appear too eager to fling him out of my Fiat at the front doors of the elementary school, try not to pull away from the curb too quickly.
Why am I so antsy to get rid of my darling, my pride and joy? Because it’s time for me to start my day job as a writer. Now that the house is empty and silent, I can begin. Right? Er... Well, first let me check Facebook. And Twitter. And my three e-mail accounts. Then I should take a look at my published books’ ratings on Amazon. And Barnes and Noble. And iTunes.
Wait. Let me put my son’s cereal bowl in the sink. Make my coffee (of course!) Catch just one DVRed TV show while I have my breakfast. Oh, I should call my mom, take a shower, maybe vacuum a little.
No, no, no. Really, I must write. I stretch out on the sofa, open my laptop, and pull up my work in progress. Just as I start wondering if it’s too early for lunch, I’m busted.
My cat, Jasmine, having woken up from her third nap of the morning, slinks into the living room and stretches, her black behind pointing skyward, her green eyes squinched shut for a moment. She yawns, assesses the situation, and heads straight for me. Uh oh.
She sits beside the sofa and stares up at me accusingly.
“I’m writing! I swear!”
She’s not buying it. She crouches, and I hastily wonder if I need anything—water? a snack? a bathroom break? Too late. She springs.
I adopted Jasmine from a local vet’s pet rescue service when she was about six months old. She’d been picked up as a stray, with her mom and sibling. One of the vet techs had kept the mother, and her sister had already been adopted. Jasmine was hanging out in a cage, alone, staring up at me. When the assistant handed her to me, she reclined in my arms like a baby and started playing with my hair. It was quite clear she’d chosen me.
She’s been my little girl ever since, my buddy. Oh sure, she likes the rest of the family, but she sees me as her responsibility. When I’m unwell, or sad, she headbutts me to remind me that she’s there to keep an eye on me. If I’m lying in bed, out of sorts, she perches on my pillow, up against the top of my head, and starts up her powerful, healing purr.
And when I decided to write novels full time, she became my Writing Scarf™. If I’m on the sofa (and I usually am, because I don’t have a desk) and typing, she appears out of nowhere and lies on my chest, her tail wrapping around my neck, pinning me in the most uncomfortable position imaginable. For hours. It’s kind of nice in the winter... not so nice in the summer, but I’m not going to argue. She’s doing her job.
You know those clever computer programs that lock out everything but your document for a set amount of time, to make sure you write without distraction? Never mind those. And never mind fellow writers exerting peer pressure, looming deadlines, nagging editors, expectant beta readers. I can do end runs around all those things. But I can’t get away from the sandbaggy weight of my furbaby when she has a job to do.
She never thinks it’s too late, either—if I’m writing in bed at one o’clock in the morning, she arrives and settles in, usually as a weight on my forearm (which makes typing fun) until I shut down the laptop and turn off the light. Then she wanders off to patrol the house and keep it free of monsters.
All authors have their little rituals and specific items they need to get them settled enough to focus on writing, whether it’s music, coffee or tea, snacks, or even (shudder) some pre-writing physical exercise. But all I need is my ol’ fuzzybutt. She keeps me in line.
Jasmine is getting pretty old now—the vet guesses she’s seventeen—and although she’s in good health, I know she’ll only be with me a few more years if I’m lucky. I can’t really bear to think about what it’ll be like when she’s gone. My son wants a kitten, a pet who’ll like to run and play. I get that. Sometimes I feel the same way. But there’s no replacing my favorite Writing Scarf. It sure will be cold writing without her.
About the Author
Jayne Denker is the author of three contemporary romantic comedies, By Design, Unscripted, and Down on Love, and is hard at work on a fourth. She lives in a small town in western New York, USA, with her husband, son, and one very sweet senior-citizen basement kitteh who loves nothing more than going outside, where she sits on the front walk and wonders why she begged to go outside. When Jayne’s not hard at work on another novel (or, rather, when she should be hard at work on another novel), she can usually be found frittering away stupid amounts of time online.
Connect with Jayne
Blog: http://jaynedenker.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/JayneDenkerAu...
Twitter: @JDenkerAuthor
Buy the Book
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Unscripted-ebook/dp/B00BTG44M4/ref=pd_sim_sbs_kstore_1
Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/unscripted-jayne-denker/1114865242?ean=9781601831316
Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/unscripted-5
(Also available on iTunes)
Receive Change the Word's latest updates in your Inbox. Subscribe by
entering your information under "Follow by email" in the sidebar. Follow
me on Twitter @lmchap or "Like" Change the Word on Facebook.
One of Hollywood’s hardest working women is about to discover there's a lot more drama behind the camera than in front of it...
Faith “Freakin’” Sinclair probably shouldn’t have called her boss a perv…or grabbed his “privates.” But as creator of the hit dramedy Modern Women she’d had enough of his sexist insults. Now she’s untouchable in the industry—not in a good way. The only way to redeem herself is to convince Alex the wildly popular wildly demanding former star of her show to come back. But there’s one obstacle in her way—one very handsome broad-shouldered obstacle…
Professor Mason Mitchell is head of the theater department where Alex is studying “real” acting. The only way he’ll let Faith anywhere near Alex is if she agrees to co-teach a class. It’s an offer she can’t refuse—and as it turns out the professor just might end up teaching Faith that there’s more to life than work—and that real-life love scenes are way more fun than fake ones…
My One-of-a-Kind Writing Scarf
By Jayne Denker
Guest blogger
It’s seven o’clock on a weekday morning. I’ve managed to rouse my son (no mean feat), and I’ve made sure he’s accomplished all the necessary morning tasks: Dressed? Check. Fresh underwear? One can only hope. Groomed? Check, although I take another couple of swipes at his mop of hair with the brush, just for good measure. Fed, watered, jacketed, tromboned, backpacked? Check, check, check, check. Forty minutes later, I try not to appear too eager to fling him out of my Fiat at the front doors of the elementary school, try not to pull away from the curb too quickly.
Why am I so antsy to get rid of my darling, my pride and joy? Because it’s time for me to start my day job as a writer. Now that the house is empty and silent, I can begin. Right? Er... Well, first let me check Facebook. And Twitter. And my three e-mail accounts. Then I should take a look at my published books’ ratings on Amazon. And Barnes and Noble. And iTunes.
Wait. Let me put my son’s cereal bowl in the sink. Make my coffee (of course!) Catch just one DVRed TV show while I have my breakfast. Oh, I should call my mom, take a shower, maybe vacuum a little.
No, no, no. Really, I must write. I stretch out on the sofa, open my laptop, and pull up my work in progress. Just as I start wondering if it’s too early for lunch, I’m busted.
My cat, Jasmine, having woken up from her third nap of the morning, slinks into the living room and stretches, her black behind pointing skyward, her green eyes squinched shut for a moment. She yawns, assesses the situation, and heads straight for me. Uh oh.
She sits beside the sofa and stares up at me accusingly.
“I’m writing! I swear!”
She’s not buying it. She crouches, and I hastily wonder if I need anything—water? a snack? a bathroom break? Too late. She springs.
I adopted Jasmine from a local vet’s pet rescue service when she was about six months old. She’d been picked up as a stray, with her mom and sibling. One of the vet techs had kept the mother, and her sister had already been adopted. Jasmine was hanging out in a cage, alone, staring up at me. When the assistant handed her to me, she reclined in my arms like a baby and started playing with my hair. It was quite clear she’d chosen me.
She’s been my little girl ever since, my buddy. Oh sure, she likes the rest of the family, but she sees me as her responsibility. When I’m unwell, or sad, she headbutts me to remind me that she’s there to keep an eye on me. If I’m lying in bed, out of sorts, she perches on my pillow, up against the top of my head, and starts up her powerful, healing purr.And when I decided to write novels full time, she became my Writing Scarf™. If I’m on the sofa (and I usually am, because I don’t have a desk) and typing, she appears out of nowhere and lies on my chest, her tail wrapping around my neck, pinning me in the most uncomfortable position imaginable. For hours. It’s kind of nice in the winter... not so nice in the summer, but I’m not going to argue. She’s doing her job.
You know those clever computer programs that lock out everything but your document for a set amount of time, to make sure you write without distraction? Never mind those. And never mind fellow writers exerting peer pressure, looming deadlines, nagging editors, expectant beta readers. I can do end runs around all those things. But I can’t get away from the sandbaggy weight of my furbaby when she has a job to do.
She never thinks it’s too late, either—if I’m writing in bed at one o’clock in the morning, she arrives and settles in, usually as a weight on my forearm (which makes typing fun) until I shut down the laptop and turn off the light. Then she wanders off to patrol the house and keep it free of monsters.
All authors have their little rituals and specific items they need to get them settled enough to focus on writing, whether it’s music, coffee or tea, snacks, or even (shudder) some pre-writing physical exercise. But all I need is my ol’ fuzzybutt. She keeps me in line.
Jasmine is getting pretty old now—the vet guesses she’s seventeen—and although she’s in good health, I know she’ll only be with me a few more years if I’m lucky. I can’t really bear to think about what it’ll be like when she’s gone. My son wants a kitten, a pet who’ll like to run and play. I get that. Sometimes I feel the same way. But there’s no replacing my favorite Writing Scarf. It sure will be cold writing without her.
About the Author
Jayne Denker is the author of three contemporary romantic comedies, By Design, Unscripted, and Down on Love, and is hard at work on a fourth. She lives in a small town in western New York, USA, with her husband, son, and one very sweet senior-citizen basement kitteh who loves nothing more than going outside, where she sits on the front walk and wonders why she begged to go outside. When Jayne’s not hard at work on another novel (or, rather, when she should be hard at work on another novel), she can usually be found frittering away stupid amounts of time online.
Connect with Jayne
Blog: http://jaynedenker.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/JayneDenkerAu...
Twitter: @JDenkerAuthor
Buy the Book
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Unscripted-ebook/dp/B00BTG44M4/ref=pd_sim_sbs_kstore_1
Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/unscripted-jayne-denker/1114865242?ean=9781601831316
Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/unscripted-5
(Also available on iTunes)
Receive Change the Word's latest updates in your Inbox. Subscribe by
entering your information under "Follow by email" in the sidebar. Follow
me on Twitter @lmchap or "Like" Change the Word on Facebook.
November 11, 2013
my debut novel's cover reveal
Today I'm pleased to reveal the cover of my debut novel, Hard Hats and Doormats, which will be published with Marching Ink this winter.
Without further adieu, here it is:
About the Book:
Lexi Burke has always been a stickler for following
rules and procedures. As a human resources manager for a leading Gulf
Coast chemical company, it’s her job to make sure everyone else falls in
line, too.
But
after losing out on a big promotion––because her boss sees her as too
much of a yes-woman––Lexi adopts a new policy of following her heart
instead of the fine print. And her heart knows what it wants: Jason
Beaumont, a workplace crush who is off limits based on her previous
protocol.
While
navigating a new romance and interoffice politics, Lexi must find the
confidence to stand on her own or face a lifetime of following someone
else’s orders.
Who says nice girls have to finish last?
It's also up on Goodreads, so now you can add Hard Hats and Doormats to your to-read list. And I'm on Goodreads as an author, which means you can follow me, too!
In celebration of today's cover reveal, I'm sharing "Hard Hats Confessions" with several other bloggers, who generously shared their space with me. The confessions include tidbits about the story behind the story such as how I came up with the title, character names and more. Be sure to check them out.
Confession #1: Catenabi Chronicles
Confession #2: Chick Lit Pad
Confession #3: eBook Addict
Confession #4: Meredith Schorr's Blog
Confession #5: Clippings in the Shed
Confession #6: The Author Blog for Anna Garner AKA Libby Mercer
Confession #7: Books by Banister
Confession #8: Samantha Stroh Bailey's Blog
Confession #9: Books Etc.
Confession #10: Chick Lit Goddess
Confession #11: Martha Reynolds Writes
Confession #12: Written by Deb
Confession #13: Courtney Giardina's Blog
Confession #14: Carolyn Ridder Aspenson's Blog (Scroll to the bottom of the post on this one!)
Confession #15: Sara Palacios' Blog
Confession #16: Fictionella
Confession #17: Elizabeth Marx Books
Confession #18: Jen Tucker's Blog
Confession #19: Julie Valerie's Book Blog
Confession #20: Book Mama Blog
Confession #21: Step Into Fiction
You can also show some love to my publisher by visiting Samantha March and Chick Lit Plus. Without her and my fabulous cover artist, this wouldn't have happened. Lots of thanks to both.
Receive Change the Word's latest updates in your Inbox. Subscribe by
entering your information under "Follow by email" in the sidebar. Follow
me on Twitter @lmchap or "Like" Change the Word on Facebook.
November 8, 2013
breckenridge: the inspiration for a setting
In one week Merry & Bright , the anthology featuring my romantic holiday short "Twelve Drummers Drumming" will be released with Simon & Fig. Cue the applause.
I previously discussed how I found inspiration for this story on the drive from Denver to Breckenridge, but now I want to share some snapshots of the town that made the whole thing come together. I'll admit, I had fairly high hopes for Breckenridge in terms of it becoming the setting of TDD. From everything I'd heard, it would be cute, quaint and snowy. Perfect setting for a Christmas love story, right?
But it was even better than I imagined.
From the moment I drove into town and caught a glimpse of this sign and this house with those mountains behind it...
I knew Autumn and Tuck -- the main characters of the story -- had found their holiday destination. I mean, this was late April and look how perfectly charming it looked then. Can you even imagine how much more stunning it would look to a visitor during the holidays?
My friend and I spent several hours wandering the shops and restaurants in the town's historic district. No joke, I felt like Harry Potter wandering Diagon Alley.
I can totally imagine Autumn and Tuck hanging out here. So many thoughts! I actually snuck in a bit of cell phone writing (and a bunch of photo taking) while we were in town, because I couldn't hold back all the ideas.
And of course, no trip of mine would be complete without the obligatory selfie.
Note, and this is going to make me sound like a total hipster, but I was
totally rocking selfies before they became a thing. I did so much
traveling on my own for work that I had to figure out how to take pics
of myself or risk having no visual confirmation of my adventures.
Now in this story, Autumn and Tuck do a little skiing. When in Breckenridge, right? But here's an idea of where a person staying at a resort or B&B might hang out en route to the mountains.
And during the walk I found a bridge...
... over water...
... that would be a crucial location for the story's climax. So now when you go and read this book, you'll be able to use these photos to visualize just where our characters are walking.
And that's me with mountains. I feel like we could put a "Greetings from Colorado" label and Photoshop Santa hat on me and call this my 2013 Christmas card.
About the Book
Sip your eggnog, linger under the mistletoe, and make a Christmas wish.
Merry & Bright brings you six tales of Christmas cheer, featuring
stories of budding romances, Southern charm, lost loves, heaps of humor,
and lots of pie by authors Isabella Louise Anderson, Cindy Arora, Laura Chapman, Lauren Clark, Libby Mercer, and Nancy Scrofano. From sunny Los
Angeles to the Rocky Mountains to the Deep South, Merry & Bright
will take you on a heartwarming adventure you'll love to visit again and
again. Wrap yourself in holiday mirth and prepare to be swept off your
feet.
Merry & Bright, featuring "Twelve Drummers Drumming" will be available from Simon & Fig on Nov. 15. Check your favorite online retailers for more information.
Receive Change the Word's latest updates in your Inbox. Subscribe by
entering your information under "Follow by email" in the sidebar. Follow
me on Twitter @lmchap or "Like" Change the Word on Facebook.
November 7, 2013
little laura gives love another shot - part ii
Blogger's Note: Thanks to my family's pack-rat tendencies -- and my vanity -- I've
managed to keep documentation of my progress as a writer from
kindergarten on. Instead of letting those cedar chest gems go to waste, I
figured I might as well do what I do best -- post them to my blog. This is Little Laura Learns the Ropes: The Later Years.
No. 17: Promising - Part II (continued from Part I)
Date: Spring 2003
Age: 17
Oh, Little Laura, you'll be a woman soon. Spending $100 on a dress, another $30 on nails, $40 on hair. You'll skip the limo to save money, but you'd be surprised how much you'll spend on dinner.
This was another junior year creative writing assignment. We were tasked with writing a short story. It could be about anything -- preferably something about the high school experience. And for Little Laura, prom was definitely one of those experiences.
At this point in my junior year, I'd recently undergone a fairly horrific break-up. I'm willing to concede I handled it poorly and was overly dramatic about the whole thing. (Can you tell by this story that I'd fully embraced a dramatic life of an angst-filled teen?) On top of nursing my wounded heart, I didn't have any prospects for my upcoming junior prom.
(I later went on to not only find a date to my prom, but I was invited to -- and attended -- proms at two other schools that year. By senior year I had a steady boyfriend at another high school, and I went to two more proms. So, yeah, five proms. I made out like a bandit getting the prom experience.)
Little Laura before her junior prom.
Little Laura before her date's prom, junior year.
Little Laura before another
date's prom, junior year.
Little Laura before her senior prom.
Yeah... Even after four Homecomings, four winter formals and five proms, I
have still never figured out how to pin a damn boutonniere. Thanks, Mom.
Little Laura before her then-boyfriend's senior prom.
(And, yes, I removed the face of my dates. I don't have
their permissions, and this isn't about them. It's about LL!)
In any case, I obviously used this writing assignment as a way to give myself hope for prom. I guess it worked.
I'll give Little Laura this much. She's finally learned to use the damned spell check. And I'm pretty sure I hadn't seen this on an episode of Friends or Saved by the Bell, which means this is a Little Laura original. And, aside from the theatrics -- and fully embracing the concept of having my characters "add" or "snarl" -- this isn't a bad little story. Or am I wrong? I could be wrong.
In all seriousness, as I read this story, there were a couple of moments that made me smile, because I thought it was actually sweet and not so bad. Then there were other times I did a lot of Liz Lemon-style eye rolling.
Now, we've already stepped into the truth thunderdome. But I'm going to invite you into an inner chamber of the dome for this truth bomb I'm about to drop. Here's the confession: I'm about 95 percent sure the mom in this story is supposed to be me in the future.
At this point, I wanted to be a teacher (and a novelist), and what is the mother in this story doing? I also had high aspirations of marrying a highly successful, motivated family man. (Now, I'm just looking for a guy who has a job and is willing to take the trash out and change the kitty litter 50 percent of the time.) Another reason I suspect this: all four of the children in this book are ones I planned to name my own children at this point in my life. My two favorite girl names and my two favorite boy names.
What's wrong with me? Four kids? I know I grew up as one of four, but sheesh, y'all.That's a lot of work.
Receive Change the Word's latest updates in your Inbox. Subscribe by
entering your information under "Follow by email" in the sidebar. Follow
me on Twitter @lmchap or "Like" Change the Word on Facebook.
managed to keep documentation of my progress as a writer from
kindergarten on. Instead of letting those cedar chest gems go to waste, I
figured I might as well do what I do best -- post them to my blog. This is Little Laura Learns the Ropes: The Later Years.
No. 17: Promising - Part II (continued from Part I)
Date: Spring 2003
Age: 17
The popcorn had finished popping, the candy opened, pops passed around, and the movie selected. The three girls were sprawled around the family room in their pajamas. Girl’s Night.
“So he just asked you to go?” Onnie squealed excitedly. “I can’t believe it, I’ve been praying for it forever!” Her short pigtails bounced around with her.
Mom just smiled, but Aurelia knew she could very easily fly out of her seat, as well. “We’ll have to get you a beautiful dress,” she though out loud. “Do you have any in mind?”
Thinking about the dress she’d seen in the magazine, Aurelia described it to Mom and Onnie. “I’m telling you, Mom, it’s amazing and exactly what I want.”
“You don’t work tomorrow, correct?” Mom asked.
“Right.”
“Well,” Mom slowly suggested, “I guess we’ll just have to go on a miniature shopping spree, tomorrow. After all, Prom is only three weeks away.”
This caused another shrill squeal to sound from Onnie. As a freshman, and an energetic one at that, she still felt the most exciting event in the world was a school dance. “Oh my gosh, I can do your hair, make-up, and everything!”
“What’s going on in here?” Tony grumbled, walking into the room. Aurelia’s twin brother had obviously heard all of their screaming and loud planning.
“Corey asked Relia to Prom,” Onnie shouted for the world to hear.
“That’s it?” Tony asked with disdain. “People were figuring he would get around to it. In fact,” he paused and brightened a little, “we had a betting pool going on. I win thirty bucks.”
He grinned in anticipation of his economic gain. Then, he grabbed his car keys from the end table. “Mom, I’m going over to Tara’s. I’ll be back by midnight.”
“Night, Kiddo,” Mom called out. “Tell Tara I said ‘hi.’ Ask her over for dinner tomorrow night.”
“Okay.” The heavy wooden door slammed shut.
“I think he’s going to ask her to Prom,” Onnie speculated.
Aurelia glanced at Mom who stared longingly at the door. “I have no doubt,” she whispered before looking away. Clearing her throat she announced, “I’m tired, girls, and I need to call your father. He’ll want to know all of the news. Night, and sweet dreams.”
They both said good night and Onnie pulled out some magazine to show Aurelia a number of sample hairstyles she could chose from. Though she feigned deep interest, Aurelia couldn’t forget the look on Mom’s face. She’d looked so sad. It was then that Aurelia knew that Mom didn’t want to leave Omaha. She also knew Mom didn’t want to be apart from her father. For the first time, she realized what Mom must be going through. She had to choose between the place she loved and the man she shared the same feelings for. What she would do Mom’s situation, Aurelia had not the slightest idea.
***
The magical night of Prom was rapidly approaching. Only three days left to go. Her dress had been bought and was hanging in her closet. Her little sister had helped her chose a hairstyle and practiced it a couple of times. The make up had been selected and the nail appointment scheduled. Dinner reservations were made, a boutonnière ordered, and Corey had taken Aurelia along to decide on a tux with a blue vest to match her dress.
As a present, Aurelia had hand sewn him a handkerchief out of a pale blue material that would look perfect in his coat pocket. With so little time to go, she was finding it difficult to hide her excitement. Granted, Corey had seemed to be looking forward to it as well, but she didn’t want him to detect what was going on inside her.
The school’s gossip grapevine had always linked the two together. It had quieted down substantially until Corey had asked her to Prom. No doubt thanks to her brother and sister. She knew Onnie hadn’t told everyone out of malice, just dumb excitement. As for Tony, he’d done it to cause her grief. He’d told her just the same.
It probably didn’t help matters that she and Corey had become inseparable. Not only this, but in class, he was always finding a way to make contact with her. For her part, Aurelia couldn’t help but gaze at him adoringly whenever he was around. Even the little old ladies at the library had taken to giggling whenever he came around for a visit, which was more frequently then ever. It was making it harder for her to keep their relationship at the “just friends” level.
Mom said he was in love, just like one of the characters in the books she wrote. Aurelia knew better. He couldn’t even like her as more than a friend. Being a very straightforward person, he would have already told her. It didn’t matter in any case. With Spring Break being the week after Prom, she’d be going with her family to Washington DC for a visit. She hadn’t told Corey or any of her other friends. She didn’t want to ruin what few, precious moments she had left with them all but mentioning it.
She felt a pencil jab into her side. It was Corey, who now pouted for having been neglected so long. Batting his eyes at her, he stuck out his bottom lip and said, “What’s wrong, Lia? Don’t you want to play with me?”
Sending him a look that would make a smoldering temptress proud, she simply said, “do you know it?”
That was the final mark in the trigger of the grapevine frenzy. Their flirtations were now at an all time high. She really needed to put a stop to it, but she was enjoying herself entirely too much. She could already hear the sound of her heart breaking in the very near future.
***
He came to her house promptly at six the following Saturday. Her father, who was home to collect them for the next week, was the one who came up to her room to announce Corey’s arrival.
“Come in,” she called in response to the knock at her door, still primping in front of a mirror.
Stepping in cautiously, then closing the door behind his tall figure, her father scanned her appearance up and down. “You look beautiful, Sweetheart,” he spoke gruffly. His eyes were watering slightly, but he looked away quickly.
“Thanks,” Aurelia said, patting her hair softly and checking herself over in the mirror, again and again.
Clearing his throat, her father brought his eyes to her face. “Look,” he began quietly, “I know this has all been pretty rough on you all lately. Believe me, it’s been hard for me too.”
Aurelia just stared back at him.
“Not getting to be with my family has been awful. Not getting to see each of you everyday almost makes me wish I hadn’t accepted this position.”
“Yeah right,” Aurelia rolled her eyes. “You can’t fool me. I know this is your dream job. It’s what you’ve always wanted to do.”
“I can’t deny that,” her father interrupted, “but you forgot to mention my other dream.”
Thrown off guard, Aurelia looked quizzically at her father.
Staring at his shoes, her father said quietly, “My other dream was to have a good family. To be a good father. To have a wonderful wife. And I have the first and the third, I just haven’t been able to manage the second yet.”
For a moment, both stood in silence, neither knowing what to say.
“I just wish President Lawrence hadn’t run till the next election.” Pausing, to laugh shortly before finishing, “But anyhow, I didn’t mean to spoil your evening. I just wanted you to know that I love you, and I’m so proud to be your father.”
He lightly chucked her under the chin with his finger. “I’m glad Corey is the sort of young man good enough to take my oldest girl out.”
For the first since he’d been named Attorney General, Aurelia felt at peace with Dad, and she knew everything would work out for the best. She’d been wrong about him, and she couldn’t wait to get to know him again. That would have to wait till later because she had a full night ahead of her.
***
Sitting on a couch in the screened in porch in the back of her friend’s house, Aurelia sat leaning up against the wall of Corey’s chest, listening to his heartbeat and feeling the warmth of his arms. It reminded her so much of the beaches of Florida. The two sat there, resting, and she thought of the evening she’d had. The corsage on her wrist was made of a bouquet of baby yellow roses, held together by a light blue ribbon. She loved it, just as she knew she’d cherish the picture her mother had taken of Corey putting it on her. Even more she’d love the picture of her pinning on his boutonnière, which in reality had been pinned on by her mother, but the picture taken while Aurelia faked it. They’d gone to a small Chinese restaurant. It was inexpensive, and cozy, and they did not need to beat a crowd there. They’d all joked, and laughed, and Corey had been such a gentleman, opening doors, and paying for her.
At the dance, they tangoed, made up moves, and even did the chicken polka a time or two. It was fun going with someone who wasn’t afraid to dance. Even closer to perfection were the slow dances, where Corey held her close. The world seemed to stop for them. They all stopped by Post-Prom and found it amusing for only a couple of hours. Since their parents knew their intent to stay over with a few friends at one of their houses, it wasn’t an issue how late they stayed out. They all played poker and watched a movie, which brought them to now. Just before the sunrise, and right after the last stars had faded from the sky.
“You know what, Lia?”
“Hmm?”
“Tonight was just about perfect,” Corey declared. “We had fun, it was comfortable, and I’m glad I went with someone I cared about, not just some ditzy girl with looks.”
“Gee thanks,” Aurelia sarcastically moaned.
Looking down at her seriously, Corey said, “You know what I mean. Besides, what are you worried about? You know you were easily the most gorgeous girl there.”
This caused Aurelia to be shocked. She couldn’t even think of anything she might say in response to such a statement.
“Your dress made your eyes look so blue,” he began to list. “I never knew they were that color. Your hair looks so elegant, and that’s who you are elegant. The jokes you made were so witty, and I don’t remember a time I wasn’t laughing. You were always smiling, and your smile brings out your dimples. I love your smile. You know, actually, there probably isn’t a single thing about you I don’t love.”
Once again, Aurelia was at a loss for words. She wouldn’t have had time to respond as his lips descended upon hers, and the two shared a kiss. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to be taken away to a paradise she’d never known. It wasn’t her first kiss, but somehow after being kissed by Corey, she felt like she’d been welcomed to a new world. Certainly by kissing her with this intensity, it must mean something. Perhaps Corey may share her feelings after all. No sooner had the thought entered her mind, then the kiss was ended abruptly.
To her dismay, he pulled away, almost in a state of horror. “Oh, God, Aurelia,” he stammered, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I just got caught up in the moment.”
Still pulling herself to her senses, Aurelia began to ramble all of what she had felt for him for so long. Finishing she said, “I want nothing more than to know that you feel the same way, and that we can start a new form of life together. It’s part of why I’m so against leaving. Truly, Corey, I’m not making this up. I care about you, more than anyone else.”
After all of that, he just stared at her. Nothing was said for quite sometime, till Corey stood up and said, “I think we should go home, we both could obviously use some sleep.”
Nothing was said on the drive home, and when Aurelia got out of the car, he reached out to grab her hand, but pulled it away quickly. Looking out his own window, he quietly said, “I think that you and I could use some time apart. To figure things out, you know? We’ve just been around each other too much. No wonder we were acting like this.”
Of everything she had thought he might say, this was what hurt the most. Fighting against tears, Aurelia got out, and before slamming the door, she angrily spat, “If you want time alone, Corey, take it. You’re about to get all the time in the world.” She ran inside and curled up on her bed, safe in her haven, ignoring his calls for her to come back.
***
She had only one day left in Washington D.C. before returning to Omaha. Though she had moped around much of the trip, Aurelia knew she had enjoyed herself. D.C. was a fun place, she just knew it wasn’t for her. So had Dad. After he and Mom had spent a great deal of talking, and then speaking with the President, they all came to an understanding. He would only be required to spend one week a month in Washington. It was still a considerable amount of time, but he was willing to do it in order to secure his family’s happiness. After she and Tony graduated, they would relocate for the remainder of the term, as Onnie didn’t mind the idea of relocation before junior year.
Sitting alone in the sun room, her silent revere of what had passed between herself and Corey was interrupted by her brother Cameron, who had joined them on his own Spring Break. He sat next to her on the sofa, and they both stared out the window for a time.
Then he turned to her and said, “So what are you going to do about him?”
Startled, Aurelia looked to him. “What do you mean?”
Cameron rolled his eyes and laughed at her playing it off as nothing. “You know what I mean. What are you going to do about Corey?”
It was then that she finally cut lose her feelings. She began to sob, and her brother pulled her into his arms. “I just don’t know, Cam, I don’t.” She gulped air between sobs. “Part of me wants to fight for him, and the other wants me to give up and start over.”
Thinking very carefully, and choosing his words, Cameron finally asked, “Which one is it going to be? You can’t do both.”
Wiping her eyes, and taking a shallow breath, Aurelia knew the answer. “I’m going to fight for him. You know that’s what I want.”
Breaking out into a huge smile, Cameron laughed, “Then get to it. Don’t worry, I’ve made all of the arrangements.”
***
When he’d dropped her off, Cameron had said she didn’t have anything to worry about. All she had to do was talk to Corey. After the flight, she didn’t know what to expect. Would anyone really be there to pick her up? Cameron said that he’d made arrangements to take her to Corey, so she wondered who it would be there. Even more than that, she wondered how she would explain this all to that person. With the exception of a few friends, she’d practically dropped off of the face of the Earth.
Stepping out of the terminal, Aurelia looked around until she saw the most easily recognized face. The most needed pair of eyes. Even before she could say anything, Corey had thrown his arms around her and pulled her close to him in a tight embrace.
“They said you weren’t coming back,” Corey breathed out. “I thought I’d messed things forever.”
Aurelia smiled brightly at Corey as the two settled on a bench by the windows. She’d never been happier to see anyone. With Corey still holding her hand she managed to get out, “Whoever your source was, they were obviously misinformed.”
“I missed you so much,” holding her tight, Corey managed to say. “Your brother told me that you wouldn’t be moving after all. I’m so relieved. You see, I never realized how much you meant to me till you were gone.” After a pause he finished. “I’m sorry.”
So that was who Cameron had called. At least one thing made perfect sense. As for the world of Corey, he had apologized now, but it didn’t seem to matter. Aurelia had somehow known he never meant to hurt her with those thoughtless words.
“I forgive you.”
Sighing, he looked out at the planes taking off and landing. “All of those things you said to me, were exactly what I’ve been feeling the same way too, for as long as I can remember. I was just so overwhelmed when you told me, and so scared to know you felt the same way, I panicked. It was wrong of me, but I lashed out. I was afraid to grow closer to you when I thought you would be leaving.”
The two sat in silence and just looked at one another. It had only been a few days since they’d last seen one another, but it might as well have been an eternity. Neither would grow tired of the sight of the other.
“I completely understand.”
Still more silence while the two reflected on all that had occurred. Corey interrupted the silence by saying, “Now that you’re back for good, I was wondering if you would like to, you know, officially be my girlfriend.” He said this quietly, showing reservation and nervousness for the first time since she’d met him.
Joy flooded through her heart when she heard the words. It all stopped when she thought of what had happened last time they’d discussed this. Tears came to her eyes as Aurelia stammered, “We can’t, Corey, we can’t. You’re my best friend, and I though I had messed everything up once. Don’t ask me to risk losing you again. I don’t think I can handle that.”
“Listen, Lia,” Corey said seriously, pulling her closer to him. “We’ve been through a lot. Cooties, puberty, ups and downs, this scare. We survived this, we can make it through anything.”
They sat still for a moment, then Aurelia pulled out of his embrace. Looking intently into his eyes, she confessed for the first time to anyone, “I’ve never really believed high school romances could end peacefully and with no regrets. I have even less faith in them lasting.”
It was at that moment she tore her eyes away from his. This was the first time they’d broken all contact since their reunion. A plane took off beginning a new flight. Just as this was a new beginning for their relationship. With a smile playing at her lips, she reached her hand out to lace her fingers with his. Shyly, Aurelia shifted her glance to stare him in the eyes.
“Prove me wrong.”
“I will.”
Oh, Little Laura, you'll be a woman soon. Spending $100 on a dress, another $30 on nails, $40 on hair. You'll skip the limo to save money, but you'd be surprised how much you'll spend on dinner.
This was another junior year creative writing assignment. We were tasked with writing a short story. It could be about anything -- preferably something about the high school experience. And for Little Laura, prom was definitely one of those experiences.
At this point in my junior year, I'd recently undergone a fairly horrific break-up. I'm willing to concede I handled it poorly and was overly dramatic about the whole thing. (Can you tell by this story that I'd fully embraced a dramatic life of an angst-filled teen?) On top of nursing my wounded heart, I didn't have any prospects for my upcoming junior prom.
(I later went on to not only find a date to my prom, but I was invited to -- and attended -- proms at two other schools that year. By senior year I had a steady boyfriend at another high school, and I went to two more proms. So, yeah, five proms. I made out like a bandit getting the prom experience.)
Little Laura before her junior prom.
Little Laura before her date's prom, junior year.
Little Laura before another
date's prom, junior year.
Little Laura before her senior prom.
Yeah... Even after four Homecomings, four winter formals and five proms, I
have still never figured out how to pin a damn boutonniere. Thanks, Mom.
Little Laura before her then-boyfriend's senior prom.
(And, yes, I removed the face of my dates. I don't have
their permissions, and this isn't about them. It's about LL!)
In any case, I obviously used this writing assignment as a way to give myself hope for prom. I guess it worked.
I'll give Little Laura this much. She's finally learned to use the damned spell check. And I'm pretty sure I hadn't seen this on an episode of Friends or Saved by the Bell, which means this is a Little Laura original. And, aside from the theatrics -- and fully embracing the concept of having my characters "add" or "snarl" -- this isn't a bad little story. Or am I wrong? I could be wrong.
In all seriousness, as I read this story, there were a couple of moments that made me smile, because I thought it was actually sweet and not so bad. Then there were other times I did a lot of Liz Lemon-style eye rolling.
Now, we've already stepped into the truth thunderdome. But I'm going to invite you into an inner chamber of the dome for this truth bomb I'm about to drop. Here's the confession: I'm about 95 percent sure the mom in this story is supposed to be me in the future.
At this point, I wanted to be a teacher (and a novelist), and what is the mother in this story doing? I also had high aspirations of marrying a highly successful, motivated family man. (Now, I'm just looking for a guy who has a job and is willing to take the trash out and change the kitty litter 50 percent of the time.) Another reason I suspect this: all four of the children in this book are ones I planned to name my own children at this point in my life. My two favorite girl names and my two favorite boy names.
What's wrong with me? Four kids? I know I grew up as one of four, but sheesh, y'all.That's a lot of work.
Receive Change the Word's latest updates in your Inbox. Subscribe by
entering your information under "Follow by email" in the sidebar. Follow
me on Twitter @lmchap or "Like" Change the Word on Facebook.
November 6, 2013
little laura gives love another shot - part i
Blogger's Note: Thanks to my family's pack-rat tendencies -- and my vanity -- I've
managed to keep documentation of my progress as a writer from
kindergarten on. Instead of letting those cedar chest gems go to waste, I
figured I might as well do what I do best -- post them to my blog. This is Little Laura Learns the Ropes: The Later Years.
No. 17: Promising (Part I)
Date: Spring 2003
Age: 17
Check back tomorrow for the (not so) shocking conclusion of Promising and to read my analysis, or at least an explanation of the story.
Receive Change the Word's latest updates in your Inbox. Subscribe by
entering your information under "Follow by email" in the sidebar. Follow
me on Twitter @lmchap and "like" Change the Word and my author page on Facebook.
managed to keep documentation of my progress as a writer from
kindergarten on. Instead of letting those cedar chest gems go to waste, I
figured I might as well do what I do best -- post them to my blog. This is Little Laura Learns the Ropes: The Later Years.
No. 17: Promising (Part I)
Date: Spring 2003
Age: 17
The
bright Florida sun warmed her entire body. Certainly, later she would
regret the deep red burns that would terrorize her skin for a week. That
was what Aloe was for, and nothing was going to interrupt the
contentment she was feeling. It had been months since she had even been
close to this euphoric state. It was wonderful. This vacation had been
just what she needed to escape her current personal turmoil.
Reflecting
off the sand, the yellow warmth reminded her of another place. The
walls of her bedroom replicated the feeling of sunshine. Perhaps that’s
why she found it so comforting here. Her bedroom was her haven. A light
pink comforter combined with the walls kept her centered in her realm.
All she desired to be happy was a quiet spot to be alone, a strong
family, and emotional stability. Now, only her room fit that category.
Of
all the rooms she’d lived in, this one was her favorite. She’d seen
what her new room in Washington D.C. would look like the previous
weekend. It was nice, but not cozy. It was fashionably perfect, but it
could never be home. Omaha was. The outside world held little appeal to
Aurelia Bradley. Now, thanks to her father,
Mr.-Attorney-General-himself, she was being thrust into it.
The beach no longer felt safe. She wanted her room.
***
The
first bell rang, calling school to order. Aurelia pulled herself out of
her slumber and looked around her class. Fortunately she wasn’t the
only person in her condition. The first day back from a break was always
horrible. Besides, having extreme jet lag, Aurelia had been in an
argument with Mom that morning. Like usual, the root had been her father
who had returned to Washington without seeing her come home.
Mom
walked into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee. Aurelia
looked up from her bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios and managed a little
smile, despite her exhaustion. Sitting down next to her at the table,
her mom smiled brightly.
“Morning, Relia,” Mom sang. “Time for you to tell me all about your trip. And I want details. Good ones.”
She
couldn’t help but laugh at Mom’s tactics. Straight forward, no false
pretenses, and entirely too perky considering the early hour. Adjusting
to the brightness of Mom’s voice, Aurelia began to recount all of the
events of her school trip.
“You know,” Aurelia
finished, “the thing is, they kept us so busy, and I was having such a
good time, I just don’t feel like I really missed anyone.”
She
looked so appalled by this thought that Mom tried but failed to hide
her amusement, and out came her bubbly giggle, causing Aurelia to frown.
Realizing her mistake, she cleared her throat and quickly spoke, “I
know what you mean. Sometimes it’s nice to get away from everything and
everyone you’re use to.”
Still exhausted and growing
irritated, Aurelia’s forehead creased again as she replied, “Yeah, it
was nice to get away. What’s weird, though, is how I got away from
someone who is always gone, anyways.”
She’d said it,
and very harshly too. Mom flinched by the tone even before the words
registered. “I suppose you’re implying that you’re still upset with your
father.”
“Wow, you’re quick, Mom.”
Flinching
again, Mom stood up and grabbed her mug. “I’ve had just about enough of
this from you, Aurelia Katherine. Why can’t you be happy for your
father’s accomplishments?”
“How can you support his
uprooting all of us, and right before Tony and I are seniors?” Aurelia
screamed, tears burning her eyes.
Mom took a deep
breath and said she had to go to a meeting with one of her student’s
parents. She left the room without so much as a glance at Aurelia.
That
had been it. Short, simple, but still painful and complicated. Aurelia
was miserable. While Miss Wallace took attendance, Aurelia once again
rested her head on the hard desk, hoping to spend a few more minutes
wallowing in self-pity. That wasn’t in the plans of her table partner
and best friend, Corey, however, who had slid into his seat seconds
before the bell rang. He placed one arm across the back of her chair and
with the other hand, began tapping her arms.
“Hey,
Lia,” he spoke in a low, deep voice. “Shall I count the ways and days I
missed you? Or would you like to get the Cliff Notes?”
Half-heartedly, Aurelia groaned, “Not now.”
“Oooh, someone sounds cranky. Looks like we could use some cheering up.”
Opening one of her eyes to look at his tall, dark haired frame, she once again pleaded, “Not now!”
“I’ll
take that as a crying scream for help. How did I miss thee? Let me
count the ways,” and Corey counted aloud. The teacher began the lesson,
quite oblivious to the scene being made in the back of the room, and
still he continued to count. It wasn’t until he reached twenty-seven
that Aurelia finally caved and told him all about the argument with Mom,
the problems with her father, and her fear of leaving. His dark blue
eyes stared into hers, never wavering, and his hand gently stroked her
back.
Neither learned anything relevant to American
History that day. It was always difficult for her to anymore now that
she was sitting next to Corey. He was a major distraction, in more than
one way. Why she’d gone and fallen for her best friend, she’d never
know. She’d done it anyway, and despite all of her own best convictions.
It wasn’t like he was just some guy who walked into her life off the
street. Since before Kindergarten, he’d been a constant in her life. He
didn’t feel the same about her. He couldn’t possibly. He was attractive,
and brilliant, and everyone knew who he was. She was a mousy, dorky
“braniac,” as her little sister Onnie liked to point out. It would never
work out. Then again, Aurelia didn’t believe high school romances could
last, but friendships would. One broken heart would always heal better
than two.
If she wanted Corey in her life forever, she
knew she’d better keep her feelings to herself. Even if by some small
chance, he returned her feelings, she’d be leaving soon, and she would
break his heart as well as her own.
***
After
school, Aurelia drove home and checked her e-mail. While she had been
out of town, her older brother Cameron had sent her a message.
Hey
squirt. I hope you had a great time in Florida. I’m so proud of you for
earning your way there, and everything. Listen, I’ll be flying home for
Spring Break, so I hope you’ll save some time to hang out with you big
loser brother. Send my love to everyone. Go ahead and have some too.
Love, Cam.
He had gone away to college at Boston
University this past year. Before he’d left, he’d always looked out for
her when she and Tony would get into a spat. He even stopped her from
fighting with her parents. If he had been there, she wouldn’t have
yelled at her mom that morning.
The library was slow. No
one had come to check out a book in over an hour. For being a Saturday
morning, it was rather to only have four people sitting at the nearly
empty tables. Aurelia had already read her entire YM magazine and half
of a book, her goal for the whole day. One good thing about working at
the library was she had more time to read. Almost too much time.
By
around ten thirty, the library opens at eight, Aurelia picked up the
phone and dialed home. She was hoping for Mom, things hadn’t quite
healed over as they should, and plus she needed her help.
“Hello.”
It was Tony. Aurelia groaned inwardly. She’d forgotten that Mom had
planned to do some research for her next book at the college today, and
so the only one who could help her out would be him. Knowing it would be
difficult to persuade him to do her bidding, Aurelia’s spirits
plummeted.
“Hey Tony,” she faked enthusiasm. “Could you do me a huge favor?”
“Depends.”
Squeezing
her eyes shut and taking a deep breath, she quickly spoke, “Could you
bring me my homework to the library? We’re really dead and I’m so bored.
Please.”
“Okay.”
Her jaw dropped.
Aurelia had never known her brother to simply help her out like that.
Especially since he would have soccer practice later in the afternoon.
She thanked him and hung up the phone. Now came the hardest part.
Waiting. The clock was the only sound echoing on the walls. The smell of
books filled the air. More waiting. Tapping her fingers on the counter
and leaning on the other elbow, the tapping blended with the ticking. A
door creaked. Still, she waited.
At noon, she knew he wasn’t coming. Worried, she had called home to see if he had left, but he answered the phone.
“Sorry, slipped my mind.”
That
was the end of their conversation. She was going to kill Tony.
Fortunately her shift was over at two, so she only had to deal with the
unbearable boredom for a couple hours more. She found a prom magazine
under a pile of newspapers and began to leaf through it. After studying
many of the pictures, she found the dress she wanted. A pale blue,
empire cut that would compliment her eyes so perfectly. She knew where
she could find it too. So now she had the dress, but who would she take?
Only one person came to mind.
“Hey, Lia.” She looked
up into an easily recognizable pair of blue eyes. “Ready to go on break?
I talked to your supervisor.” He nodded over towards an elderly lady he
sat smiling at the customer help desk. He held up a bag from a fast
food place and continued, “I brought food.”
They sat
outside on a bench. It was a beautiful, sunny day, not quite regular of
March. Aurelia hadn’t yet gotten over her surprise of seeing him. It
wasn’t abnormal for him to come see her at work, but normally Corey
would have said something about it before. They had divvied up the
French fries, and Aurelia had a mouthful of a grilled chicken sandwich
when he asked her.
“Want to go to Prom with me?”
She almost choked. Her dream had just been fulfilled. Could he possibly feel the same about her?
“Just as friends you know.”
There
went that wish. She would love more than anything to go to Prom with
Corey. Then again, Corey was popular enough that he could ask anyone.
Why her?
“My mom and I were talking about who I should take to prom. You were the only person who showed up on both of our lists.”
Scary. This was weird. How did he know what she was thinking? Could he be--?
“No, I’m not psychic,” he spoke quickly. “You’re just very easy to read, and I know you very well.”
She stared blankly at him.
“I
repeat my question. Will you please go to Prom with me? Chew your food
by all means before answering,” Corey said making a hand gesture towards
her mouth.
Chewing thoughtfully, Aurelia considered
her proposition. She did need a date to prom, and badly as it was only a
few weeks away. Of all the people she’d like to go with, he was the
most coveted. If she went with him, she would be guaranteed a good time.
Taking another bite of her sandwich she saw the other perspective. He
wanted to go with her just as friends, the wrong reason in her book.
Wrong for her, at least. Did it really matter to her what the reasons
were? She looked at him and made her decision.
“Okay,” Aurelia drawled out. “Sounds like fun.”
Corey
laughed out loud and gave her a bear hug. This was not the reaction she
had been expecting. Actually, she hadn’t known what to be looking for,
but she liked this response just fine. After his brief display, Corey
went back to eating his hamburger and Aurelia ate her chicken sandwich.
They would discuss details later, but right now she was too busy
savoring her lunch and his company.
Check back tomorrow for the (not so) shocking conclusion of Promising and to read my analysis, or at least an explanation of the story.
Receive Change the Word's latest updates in your Inbox. Subscribe by
entering your information under "Follow by email" in the sidebar. Follow
me on Twitter @lmchap and "like" Change the Word and my author page on Facebook.
November 5, 2013
'the girl, the gold tooth & everything' turns one
Blogger's Note: To celebrate Francine LaSala's The Girl, The Gold Tooth & Everything turning one, I'm re-sharing my review of this fab book.
With a delightfully unreliable protagonist who may be losing her mind, Francine La Sala's The Girl, the Gold Tooth and Everything offers a good blend of mystery and entertainment.
Mina Clark has mounting bills to pay, an absent husband a rambunctious
daughter to deal with. To make matters worse, she also has amnesia and
is afraid her mind is slipping even more. Though she has almost no
memory of her life, the people around her do not fill in he blanks,
because they fear the circumstances that led her condition are too much
for her to handle.
When a visit to the dentist leads her to have a gold crown placed in her
mouth, Mina's thoughts -- dreams and memories included -- take a turn
for the even crazier. With her life, and her family's, at stake, she
must do something to figure out the mystery surrounding her life before
it is too late.
This book took so many twists and turns, it was difficult not to get
completely caught up in the story. Though written in third person, it
followed Mina's train of thought mostly, and with her being an
unreliable narrator on account of her amnesia and possible insanity, as a
reader I questioned almost everything going on around her. When a
writer can pull off a character and story like that, you know it is
going to be good.
Throughout the story, as Mina tries to figure out her life, she is
inexplicably drawn to a voice on recordings she found in storage.
Eventually, it becomes clear who the voice behind the recordings is,
which adds more clarity to the story in a totally effective way. I can't
say more than that without spoiling the story.
In addition to Mina, the story was filled with characters who added even
more intrigue to the story. No one and nothing is who or what they
seemed by the end of the book.
Well-developed, suspenseful and filled with several unexpected twists,
this was an excellent read that kept me flipping the pages.
Rating: 4.5 of 5
Enter to win a copy of the book on Goodreads!
https://www.goodreads.com/giveaway/show/70037-the-girl-the-gold-tooth-and-everything-a-novel
About the Author
Francine LaSala has written nonfiction on every topic imaginable, from circus freaks to sex, and edited bestselling authors of all genres. She is now actively taking on clients for manuscript evaluations, editing services, copywriting (covers, blurbs, taglines, queries, and more), website and blog creation, and developing kickass social media campaigns. The author of novels Rita Hayworth’s Shoes and The Girl, The Gold Tooth & Everything, and the creator of The “Joy Jar” Project, she lives with her husband and two daughters in New York.
Connect with Francine
Website: http://www.francinelasala.com
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4679863.Francine_LaSala
Blog: https://clippingsintheshed.wordpress.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/francinelasala
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Francine-LaSala-Author/223109337705912
The “Joy Jar” Project: https://www.facebook.com/groups/318621974904272/
For More About the Book
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/16077524-the-girl-the-gold-tooth-and-everything
Diversion Books: http://www.diversionbooks.com/ebooks/girl-gold-tooth-everything-novel
Receive Change the Word's latest updates in your Inbox. Subscribe by
entering your information under "Follow by email" in the sidebar. Follow
me on Twitter @lmchap or "Like" Change the Word on Facebook.
With a delightfully unreliable protagonist who may be losing her mind, Francine La Sala's The Girl, the Gold Tooth and Everything offers a good blend of mystery and entertainment.
Mina Clark has mounting bills to pay, an absent husband a rambunctious
daughter to deal with. To make matters worse, she also has amnesia and
is afraid her mind is slipping even more. Though she has almost no
memory of her life, the people around her do not fill in he blanks,
because they fear the circumstances that led her condition are too much
for her to handle.
When a visit to the dentist leads her to have a gold crown placed in her
mouth, Mina's thoughts -- dreams and memories included -- take a turn
for the even crazier. With her life, and her family's, at stake, she
must do something to figure out the mystery surrounding her life before
it is too late.
This book took so many twists and turns, it was difficult not to get
completely caught up in the story. Though written in third person, it
followed Mina's train of thought mostly, and with her being an
unreliable narrator on account of her amnesia and possible insanity, as a
reader I questioned almost everything going on around her. When a
writer can pull off a character and story like that, you know it is
going to be good.
Throughout the story, as Mina tries to figure out her life, she is
inexplicably drawn to a voice on recordings she found in storage.
Eventually, it becomes clear who the voice behind the recordings is,
which adds more clarity to the story in a totally effective way. I can't
say more than that without spoiling the story.
In addition to Mina, the story was filled with characters who added even
more intrigue to the story. No one and nothing is who or what they
seemed by the end of the book.
Well-developed, suspenseful and filled with several unexpected twists,
this was an excellent read that kept me flipping the pages.
Rating: 4.5 of 5
Enter to win a copy of the book on Goodreads!
https://www.goodreads.com/giveaway/show/70037-the-girl-the-gold-tooth-and-everything-a-novel
About the Author
Francine LaSala has written nonfiction on every topic imaginable, from circus freaks to sex, and edited bestselling authors of all genres. She is now actively taking on clients for manuscript evaluations, editing services, copywriting (covers, blurbs, taglines, queries, and more), website and blog creation, and developing kickass social media campaigns. The author of novels Rita Hayworth’s Shoes and The Girl, The Gold Tooth & Everything, and the creator of The “Joy Jar” Project, she lives with her husband and two daughters in New York.
Connect with Francine
Website: http://www.francinelasala.com
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4679863.Francine_LaSala
Blog: https://clippingsintheshed.wordpress.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/francinelasala
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Francine-LaSala-Author/223109337705912
The “Joy Jar” Project: https://www.facebook.com/groups/318621974904272/
For More About the Book
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/16077524-the-girl-the-gold-tooth-and-everything
Diversion Books: http://www.diversionbooks.com/ebooks/girl-gold-tooth-everything-novel
Receive Change the Word's latest updates in your Inbox. Subscribe by
entering your information under "Follow by email" in the sidebar. Follow
me on Twitter @lmchap or "Like" Change the Word on Facebook.
November 1, 2013
happy nanowrimo
National Novel Writing Month begins, today. If you're participating, feel free to add me as your friend. My user name is elle.chapman.
Otherwise... best of luck to you. Now back to my novel.
Receive Change the Word's latest updates in your Inbox. Subscribe by
entering your information under "Follow by email" in the sidebar. Follow
me on Twitter @lmchap or "Like" Change the Word on Facebook.
October 31, 2013
in need of nano beauty sleep
You can tell we're hours away from National Novel Writing Month beginning, because the creative juices or flowing. Obviously. I mean, how else did I come up with this totally brilliant song while I was getting out of bed this morning?
Waking up his hard to do
Don't take more sleep away from me
Don't you make my eyes so sleepy
Alarm I kind of hate you
'Cause waking up his hard to do
Here's the thing I didn't sleep tight
And I tossed and turned all the night
I have more sleep to get through
Waking up is hard to do
They say that waking up is hard to do
Now I know, I know that it's true
Don't say to get up sleepy head
Instead of waking up I wish that I was going back to bed
I beg of you, please say goodnight
Can't we give more sleep another try
Come on alarm, it's time to snooze
'Cause waking up is hard to do
They say that waking up is hard to do
Now I know, I know that it's true
Don't say to get up sleepy head
Instead of waking up I wish that I was going back to bed
I beg of you, please say goodnight
Can't we give more sleep another try
Come on alarm, it's time to snooze
'Cause waking up is hard to do
OK, so maybe I didn't completely come up with that song out of nowhere. And I probably borrowed way too many of the lyrics from the original song, but now I definitely can't stop singing it.
Speaking of NaNoWriMo, if you follow me on Facebook and Twitter then you may have seen that I met up with fellow local NaNo participants for coffee and conversation to celebrate the kick-off. A group of people are getting together tonight at midnight to start writing, and I'm considering joining them. That is, if I can sneak in a nap tonight after the hard time I had waking up this morning.
Are you ready for NaNoWriMo?
Receive Change the Word's latest updates in your Inbox. Subscribe by
entering your information under "Follow by email" in the sidebar. Follow
me on Twitter @lmchap or "Like" Change the Word on Facebook.
Waking up his hard to do
Don't take more sleep away from me
Don't you make my eyes so sleepy
Alarm I kind of hate you
'Cause waking up his hard to do
Here's the thing I didn't sleep tight
And I tossed and turned all the night
I have more sleep to get through
Waking up is hard to do
They say that waking up is hard to do
Now I know, I know that it's true
Don't say to get up sleepy head
Instead of waking up I wish that I was going back to bed
I beg of you, please say goodnight
Can't we give more sleep another try
Come on alarm, it's time to snooze
'Cause waking up is hard to do
They say that waking up is hard to do
Now I know, I know that it's true
Don't say to get up sleepy head
Instead of waking up I wish that I was going back to bed
I beg of you, please say goodnight
Can't we give more sleep another try
Come on alarm, it's time to snooze
'Cause waking up is hard to do
OK, so maybe I didn't completely come up with that song out of nowhere. And I probably borrowed way too many of the lyrics from the original song, but now I definitely can't stop singing it.
Speaking of NaNoWriMo, if you follow me on Facebook and Twitter then you may have seen that I met up with fellow local NaNo participants for coffee and conversation to celebrate the kick-off. A group of people are getting together tonight at midnight to start writing, and I'm considering joining them. That is, if I can sneak in a nap tonight after the hard time I had waking up this morning.
Are you ready for NaNoWriMo?
Receive Change the Word's latest updates in your Inbox. Subscribe by
entering your information under "Follow by email" in the sidebar. Follow
me on Twitter @lmchap or "Like" Change the Word on Facebook.
in need of nano beauty sleep
You can tell we're hours away from National Novel Writing Month beginning, because the creative juices or flowing. Obviously. I mean, how else did I come up with this totally brilliant song while I was getting out of bed this morning?
Waking up his hard to do
Don't take more sleep away from me
Don't you make my eyes so sleepy
Alarm I kind of hate you
'Cause waking up his hard to do
Here's the thing I didn't sleep tight
And I tossed and turned all the night
I have more sleep to get through
Waking up is hard to do
They say that waking up is hard to do
Now I know, I know that it's true
Don't say to get up sleepy head
Instead of waking up I wish that I was going back to bed
I beg of you, please say goodnight
Can't we give more sleep another try
Come on alarm, it's time to snooze
'Cause waking up is hard to do
They say that waking up is hard to do
Now I know, I know that it's true
Don't say to get up sleepy head
Instead of waking up I wish that I was going back to bed
I beg of you, please say goodnight
Can't we give more sleep another try
Come on alarm, it's time to snooze
'Cause waking up is hard to do
OK, so maybe I didn't completely come up with that song out of nowhere. And I probably borrowed way too many of the lyrics from the original song, but now I definitely can't stop singing it.
Speaking of NaNoWriMo, if you follow me on Facebook and Twitter then you may have seen that I met up with fellow local NaNo participants for coffee and conversation to celebrate the kick-off. A group of people are getting together tonight at midnight to start writing, and I'm considering joining them. That is, if I can sneak in a nap tonight after the hard time I had waking up this morning.
Are you ready for NaNoWriMo?
Receive Change the Word's latest updates in your Inbox. Subscribe by
entering your information under "Follow by email" in the sidebar. Follow
me on Twitter @lmchap or "Like" Change the Word on Facebook.
Waking up his hard to do
Don't take more sleep away from me
Don't you make my eyes so sleepy
Alarm I kind of hate you
'Cause waking up his hard to do
Here's the thing I didn't sleep tight
And I tossed and turned all the night
I have more sleep to get through
Waking up is hard to do
They say that waking up is hard to do
Now I know, I know that it's true
Don't say to get up sleepy head
Instead of waking up I wish that I was going back to bed
I beg of you, please say goodnight
Can't we give more sleep another try
Come on alarm, it's time to snooze
'Cause waking up is hard to do
They say that waking up is hard to do
Now I know, I know that it's true
Don't say to get up sleepy head
Instead of waking up I wish that I was going back to bed
I beg of you, please say goodnight
Can't we give more sleep another try
Come on alarm, it's time to snooze
'Cause waking up is hard to do
OK, so maybe I didn't completely come up with that song out of nowhere. And I probably borrowed way too many of the lyrics from the original song, but now I definitely can't stop singing it.
Speaking of NaNoWriMo, if you follow me on Facebook and Twitter then you may have seen that I met up with fellow local NaNo participants for coffee and conversation to celebrate the kick-off. A group of people are getting together tonight at midnight to start writing, and I'm considering joining them. That is, if I can sneak in a nap tonight after the hard time I had waking up this morning.
Are you ready for NaNoWriMo?
Receive Change the Word's latest updates in your Inbox. Subscribe by
entering your information under "Follow by email" in the sidebar. Follow
me on Twitter @lmchap or "Like" Change the Word on Facebook.
