Hello, My Name Is...Death by Cheerleader, What a Way to Go...
I need to be writing my novel! I have to get a lot of sections done by Sunday! Which won't happen. I may start putting some exerpts up here. In FACT, let me see if there's anything I like...
....
After my math class, I head to my locker. Dad made me a lunchtoday. It's in a generic brown paper bag. How all American of him. Last night, after my parents thought I fell asleep, they got into an argument.
“I have to take this! If you want the Volvo for Nathan, then we’re going to need extra cash, Amy!” Dad always tried to make his selfish decisions sound like they were made for the family.
“Well, right now your son doesn’t need a Volvo, he needs a father. You’d be working 10 hours 6 days of the week, Dan! And you’re already never here. When’s the last time you spent time with Nathan?”
“We go to breakfast together sometimes!” Dad retorted triumphantly. I stifle a bitter laugh so they don’t know I’m awake.
Dad used to take me to Waffle House back in Vegas. We would go and talk about things that didn’t matter to us, like sports and school. I think it made us both feel like a healthy family. Then Dad lost his job. We haven’t had breakfast together since.
“Cut it out, Dan. You never talk to him anymore.”
Dad started yelling even louder, but Mom shushed him. I couldn’t hear them after that, so I stared at the light peaking through the blinds and tried to calculate the number of days it had been since Dad and I went to Waffle House. I fell asleep before I found out. The next morning, I got up and found a lunch from Dad on the counter. I tried to be thankful, but I knew this was just Dad’s roundabout way of getting back at Mom. I just took the lunch without a word; better to stick on the neutral ground.
...
That's one passage that I like. I was talking with Joy and we both realized that we write like whatever author we're reading at the time. A lot of my book is like Laurie Halse Anderson, and some more recently like John Green. And I have a suspicion I'll have a lot more Maureen Johnson'-esque passages in my future.
Goodness, I hope I can get this novel to turn out.
I think I'll start writing for this.
....
After my math class, I head to my locker. Dad made me a lunchtoday. It's in a generic brown paper bag. How all American of him. Last night, after my parents thought I fell asleep, they got into an argument.
“I have to take this! If you want the Volvo for Nathan, then we’re going to need extra cash, Amy!” Dad always tried to make his selfish decisions sound like they were made for the family.
“Well, right now your son doesn’t need a Volvo, he needs a father. You’d be working 10 hours 6 days of the week, Dan! And you’re already never here. When’s the last time you spent time with Nathan?”
“We go to breakfast together sometimes!” Dad retorted triumphantly. I stifle a bitter laugh so they don’t know I’m awake.
Dad used to take me to Waffle House back in Vegas. We would go and talk about things that didn’t matter to us, like sports and school. I think it made us both feel like a healthy family. Then Dad lost his job. We haven’t had breakfast together since.
“Cut it out, Dan. You never talk to him anymore.”
Dad started yelling even louder, but Mom shushed him. I couldn’t hear them after that, so I stared at the light peaking through the blinds and tried to calculate the number of days it had been since Dad and I went to Waffle House. I fell asleep before I found out. The next morning, I got up and found a lunch from Dad on the counter. I tried to be thankful, but I knew this was just Dad’s roundabout way of getting back at Mom. I just took the lunch without a word; better to stick on the neutral ground.
...
That's one passage that I like. I was talking with Joy and we both realized that we write like whatever author we're reading at the time. A lot of my book is like Laurie Halse Anderson, and some more recently like John Green. And I have a suspicion I'll have a lot more Maureen Johnson'-esque passages in my future.
Goodness, I hope I can get this novel to turn out.
I think I'll start writing for this.