First 5 pages of Sleeping Fatty

I’m sorta going stir crazy waiting to get started on my BLUE edits. While I sit, I’ve been working on two other novels.

I polled my FB followers and asked which premise they found more interesting. Sleeping Fatty won out over The Best Man so I’ve decided to pull that out, revise it, and post it on my website for feedback. (And so we can have something to do until December 9th!) I’m also working feverishly on my Sci-fi, but I’ll keep that private for now.

So to begin, here are the first five pages of my Paranormal YA Mystery. If you have a minute, tell me what you think and anything you like or would change. As long as at least one person is interested in reading on, I’ll keep revising and posting the next installment. If no one gets into it, I guess that tells me all I need to know about this one and I’ll stick it in the circular file.

THANKS!

SLEEPING FATTY

BY

RC HANCOCK

A pair of young maidens shared nothing at all.

There lives were as different as big is from small.

But each of the maidens, both the wide and the slim.

Could on one thing agree; what they wanted was him.

Two lessons were learned, and the importance thereof:

Love brings about death, while death brings about love.

PROLOGUE

FIVE YEARS AGO

The ringing exploded in Sara’s head, ripping through her dreams like a rusty fishhook. In a single zombified movement she jolted up in bed and sent her hands fumbling along the dresser.

“Hello, Hainsworth residence.”

If she hadn’t been half-asleep she might have thought better of her greeting. Past midnight you can answer calls with whatever swearword comes first to mind and not be considered unreasonable.

But as a ten-year-old, Sara Hainsworth didn’t have a lot of practice in swearing. She was, however, trained in the art of etiquette, courtesy, and knee-to-crotch self-defense. And while being awoken in the middle of the night did put her in a mood to injure someone, she was relieved that her wait was finally over.

“It’s about time you called,” Sara whispered. She brushed her golden hair back from her face with a slender hand. Her cheeks felt stiff with dried tears. Stupid boys.

“Are you there?” she said louder, her voice bouncing off the shadowy walls of her bedroom.

No answer. He must be getting to a place where he could talk without being overheard.

Sara didn’t have to worry about such things–her father could sleep through an explosion. And it was just as well. He was still mad at her for running off. He’d be even more upset if he knew who she was talking to.

She pulled the covers over her head, anxious to hear the boy’s voice. But she’d been waiting so long already. Why wasn’t he saying anything? She could almost hear him breathing into the phone. A chill ran through her. Even with her limited phone experience, she knew this wasn’t normal.

“Quincy is that you?”

The line went dead.

If it hadn’t surprised her so much, she might have been angry. She’d fallen asleep waiting for him to call, hoping for some explanation as to why he’d left her standing in the cold for three hours. Instead, all she got was a few seconds of breathing into the receiver.

If he was tired of being her boyfriend, or whatever, she could handle that. He should just tell her. But to wake her up just to hang up on her–that was cowardly.

She emerged from her blankets and set the phone in the charger. Now she was more confused than ever. How was she supposed to act when she saw him at school? Despite all his boy-stupidity, part of her still wanted to run into his arms and apologize for whatever it was that she might have done. But would that fix anything?

She knew what her friends would say, “Just pretend he’s invisible–boys hate that!” Maybe she should. At least then he’d know he couldn’t treat her like this. So what if he was a year older than her. A sixth grader–big deal.

Sara lay down, pulled the thick comforter up to her chin, and began discussing the issue with her wallpaper. She imagined the bears in tutus were giving her advice. One said to ditch the bum, another suggested she write a note in which he could express his feelings by checking the corresponding box. Most of the bears seemed just as indecisive as she was.

Soon her eyelids began to droop. Just before sleep overtook her, Sara tentatively decided on the cold shoulder approach. Of course she would open up to him eventually, but he’d have to work for it. And he had better have a darn good excuse for standing her up.

 

CHAPTER ZERO

THE NAMING OF THE SHREW

With a name like Phoenix Ivory Wack you’re just asking to get made fun of. Although shortening it to Nix made it marginally less freakish, the poor girl had no idea what her parents had been thinking at the hospital fifteen years ago. Maybe they had hoped she

would turn out attractive and charming, and that a crazy name would somehow add to her uniqueness.

Well it added all right. But the only thing it emphasized was her weight problem. To a class of freshman, the name Ivory alone was more than enough material to last the school year. Dumbo, Elephant Woman, and the Belly Mammoth were a few of the more popular.

But if Nix resented any of these, it was nothing to how she felt about her first name. Girls should not be named after mythological poultry, as she often said to anybody who would listen (i.e. her cat).

At the beginning of every year Nix could pinpoint the exact moment the teachers’ eyes fell on her name in the roll. Their brows would furrow, making sure they’d read it correctly, then they’d try unsuccessfully to suppress a smile. Most didn’t seem to know which gender they were looking for. A few would read the name loudly as if daring someone to raise their hand and claim such an atrocity.

Phoenix Ivory Wack. It sounded like someone hacking on a fish bone. Of course Nix couldn’t really blame her parents for the last name. The whole family was stuck with Wack. And it fit them perfectly–short, coarse, and odd.

By high school Nix had given up trying to fit in. Achieving popularity was hard enough without being shackled to six syllables of post-modern poetry. Nor did obesity and general awkwardness help much in the friend department.

So it may not come as a surprise that Nix had only one real friend. And since lately, even he seemed to be losing interest, Nix fully expected to begin her sophomore year as a friendless pariah.

But the summer wasn’t quite over. And before she gave up completely and resigned herself to a life of solitary overeating, Nix determined to make one last ditch effort to steal back her best friend.

And that meant crashing Sara Hainsworth’s party.

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