What I'm Writing | Chasing a Dream

17,346
That's the current word count total of Chasing a Dream.

(And yes, I'm rambling about this to y'all when I could/would/should be writing. *maybe sorta possibly hasn't written in like ten days* But I have literally no inspiration, so. Excuses prevail. Blog post it is.)

Honestly, I'm pleased with this number—and a little surprised by it, too. There's been more than a few times over the past year or so when I wondered if this little wannabe story would ever amount to anything worth talking about.

But it is, y'all. It's growing and morphing and becoming something bigger and better and with more meaning (in my opinion, anyway) than I ever anticipated. It's a complex story, with real characters, and a purposeful theme.

This weekend is the annual local rodeo that my family has attended many times over the years. We're planning to go again this year, assuming nothing comes up and there's not a cancelation. (Lots of events are being cancelled since we've been declared in a "state of emergency" *headdesk*)  This is the same rodeo, though, which spurned the idea for CaD into existence.

Considering that, and how it's been nearly an entire year since this story started as just a little idea and a few random thoughts, and how weird and beautiful and crazy and wonderful life is has put me in an introspective mood.

So here I sit, 12:23 am, when I could be sleeping or writing or reading. But what am I doing? Thinking about a story. Thinking about a story casted with people who aren't real. Well, at least the people aren't real. But maybe the story is, for someone, somewhere. Maybe it makes sense—it's relatable—to someone. And maybe that's why it's all worth it.

Maybe that person is you, or maybe it's not. But that's okay. Because I'm writing it anyway. For myself, and for that one person who may be out there somewhere in need of a story that'll remind them it's going to be okay.


Snippet: 

The young bull starts into a tight death spin, a technique his line of ancestors are known for. He bucks while spinning in a circle, utilizing centrifugal force to sling me off his back.  

Another harsh buck and I’m flying through the air. I plummet to the sunbaked earth with a thud that knocks the air from my lungs. Coughing and choking, I wait until I can breathe easier before attempting to push to my feet. My head spins as I stand, but I take a few deep breaths and push through it.  

Behind me, Wyatt loops a lead rope around the bull’s and guides him out of the corral. He knows I have no intention of trying it again this evening. Not after that sorry excuse for a dismount.  

I cast a glance in Nelson’s direction. He’s slowly shaking his head as he watches me walk across the corral towards him. Dang it. He’s not impressed.  

Irritation wells up in me. The old cowboy might be known for the bulls he raises, but several decades have passed since the last time he was the one climbing unto the animal’s back.  

As I approach, Ryder struggles to keep a straight face, but Nelson eyes me with a look I can’t read.  

“So?” I lean my arms onto the fence next to him, squinting up at the elder cowboy’s worn face in the sunlight. “What do you think?”  

“You’re gonna have to do better than that if you’re gonna make it in the rodeo world.”  

No one ever accused this man of being anything short of brutally honest. 

are you excited for Chasing a Dream?