And so it begins...
It's just as well that my goal is to "make significant progress" toward writing a novel, this month, rather than to "start and finish a novel all in one month." Thanks to a late start and only a vague idea of what I want to write, a whole novel in a month probably would be impossible.
But I feel that I'm off to a good start, and that's enough to make me happy. :-)
So, Chapter 1 is about to be posted to graceful_flow.
The first two paragraphs are also posted here, just because it's fun to tease...:
“You do that again, you little punk, and I’ll break your hand
clean off your wrist!” Suky shouted the words to make herself heard
over the steady fusillade of rain exploding all over the family
automobile, a black 2000 Mazda Miata that felt as claustrophobic as a
coffin after driving in it from one coast of the United States to the
other.
Touching the stinging spot on her cheek, where the spitball had
just hit her, she looked up from reading Karl Friday’s Legacies of
the Sword to bestow a withering stare upon her younger brother Dano.
As their mother glanced at the rear-view mirror to see if her children
might actually be serious about maiming each other, Dano arched his thin
dark eyebrows to present a perfect image of innocence. Suky looked
toward the heavens as if she expected her brother to be struck by
lightning at any moment. When no divine judgment was forthcoming, she
breathed a silent sigh and returned her attention to the book on her
lap.
But I feel that I'm off to a good start, and that's enough to make me happy. :-)
So, Chapter 1 is about to be posted to graceful_flow.
The first two paragraphs are also posted here, just because it's fun to tease...:
“You do that again, you little punk, and I’ll break your hand
clean off your wrist!” Suky shouted the words to make herself heard
over the steady fusillade of rain exploding all over the family
automobile, a black 2000 Mazda Miata that felt as claustrophobic as a
coffin after driving in it from one coast of the United States to the
other.
Touching the stinging spot on her cheek, where the spitball had
just hit her, she looked up from reading Karl Friday’s Legacies of
the Sword to bestow a withering stare upon her younger brother Dano.
As their mother glanced at the rear-view mirror to see if her children
might actually be serious about maiming each other, Dano arched his thin
dark eyebrows to present a perfect image of innocence. Suky looked
toward the heavens as if she expected her brother to be struck by
lightning at any moment. When no divine judgment was forthcoming, she
breathed a silent sigh and returned her attention to the book on her
lap.