1_million_words original fic challenge
I've found 1_million_words very useful this year to help me keep on keeping on with getting some words on the page more days than not. My goal for the June fic challenge was 2500 new words on a new fic after "finishing" my novel :-)
I exceeded my goal! I got 3561 words on a new novella, "The Bear" AND I cut 6000 words from my novel "Billie Mae", while adding a new scene of 1222 words.
Excerpt from "The Bear"- Sami is living on Beech Mountain, NC while she recovers from a traumatic incident in which she failed to save a drowning victim. Josh is living at his father's while he trains for a mountain 5K called 'The Bear':
142
There is a web strung from the middle of the exposed beam above my head to the built-in bookcase that serves as a headboard behind me. Every time I close my eyes, Brutus scrapes his teeth along my ribs. The spider is small. I can only see it when it moves.
It doesn't move much.
140
It's after sunrise, but not much. Still, I slept five hours in one stretch and I feel good. I ran uphill first and downhill coming home, two days in a row. Today, I turn right at Pond Creek and trot down the stairs. Bouncing off the last stair onto the biggest rock edge one stride out, I take one calculated step after another until I'm ricocheting down the trail, lost in the hum of my rhythm, eyes finding each safe landing for my next step. I don't register the dark shape until I'm by it. Straightening my upper body, I slow over three strides and glance over my shoulder.
Josh detaches himself from the beech holding him up. I take two more strides, waiting for his voice. It doesn't come. I settle back into my pace, follow the curve of the creek bed right. I feel him coming. I lengthen my stride and leap when the trail crosses Pond Creek. Josh splashes through a second later.
Something dark and angry rises up inside me and I spin around before I've stopped. My feet are slower than my body. I fall down backwards, landing on my palms and ass. It's rocky and wet. Josh stops and looks down at me. He isn't breathing hard. He looks like he just woke up. He settles on his heels and crosses his arms like he's prepared to wait hours for me to stand back up.
"What are you doing?" I yell at him.
"Running."
It speaks.
"Can you run somewhere else?"
He looks into the woods to his left.
He looks into the woods to his right.
He looks at me and then lets his gaze rise to the trail beyond me.
The one I'm blocking.
As he's shaking his head slower than a sloth, I get up.
I turn my back on him and run.
Excerpt from "Billie Mae"- Andrea Kelley, a research librarian, and her best friend, Detective William Taka, have a ghost problem. Billie Mae's mother confessed to her murder and is serving life in prison, but once other murdered children are discovered near by, Billie Mae launches into tantrum mode. In desperate response, Andrea and Taka go on the hunt for a killer and the truth of Billie Mae's death, but someone else is also on the hunt...for revenge against Taka, and Andrea is standing square on the bull's eye-:
"I drownded."
Andrea blinked her eyes open in the dark to squint at Billie Mae Robbins.
All of six, with flaxen hair, Billie Mae had the bluest eyes south of a sunny sky. And she glowed, just a bit, as she stood next to the bed. As usual, she wore a white cotton nightgown, the kind that only went to the knees. Today, a vivid purple bruise crossed the midpoint of her throat, thin as wire, staining the skin below it in a lighter hue until it faded above her collarbone.
"I don't think you drowned," Andrea murmured. She didn't want to wake Taka. He lay sprawled over more than half her bed, but since he'd tracked and nailed a killer in a little over thirty-nine hours without sleep, she was letting him have more than his fair share. Plus he was big and pretty and threw a lot of body heat, a total plus during October in West Virginia.
"I drownded."
She had this conversation with Billie Mae three or four times a week. She'd move, but she loved the house and Billie Mae's antics made the rent cheap for a two-story on a quiet cul-de-sac ten minutes from downtown Charleston. The cute landlord, Kenny, threw in weekly lawn mowing after the first time she called him looking for answers. Although he claimed Andrea was the first treated to an actual appearance by Billie Mae, Kenny admitted she was the first tenant to last longer than three months in years.
"I drownded all by myself," Billie Mae insisted.
Andrea rolled onto her side to face the little girl. Billie Mae looked very serious. There was another conversation they had sometimes when Andrea made bacon, which she made more now than ever simply because it was fun to see Billie Mae laugh. But this particular conversation was solemn and grave and almost always took place just before dawn broke and filled the master bedroom with muted brightness. She only found it annoying when Billie Mae woke her on Sundays, the one day Andrea didn't get up early to run. Since it was Friday, Andrea whispered back, “I don't think you did.”
"I did," Billie Mae shouted, stomping her bare foot, little fists clinched tight. Andrea flinched, even though she expected it and knew Taka couldn't hear her.
"Where?"
She pointed out the window. Fed by a branch of the Elk River, with about twenty custom homes on large lots built along a portion of the shoreline, Lake Vickers lay a good half-mile away. After sunrise, Andrea knew, the lake might be visible through that window as a flat grey smudge beyond the fog-wreathed reds and yellows of the trees growing across all the yards downslope from her.
"Your mother strangled you in the bath tub, Billie Mae," Andrea whispered. She made an effort to say it as a statement of fact, to not be mean. Usually she remembered to soften 'strangle' to 'suffocate', but it had been weeks upon weeks of this dialogue already.
Billie Mae's face crumpled, tears welled and then spilled onto her porcelain cheeks. She shook her head. Andrea couldn't ignore her. She lifted the covers, letting the cool air rush in, and sat up, swinging her legs over the edge of the mattress. Taka grunted and grabbed at the blankets, pulling them back in close. The hardwood floor was cold under Andrea's feet. She shivered. There were still things she needed for the house. Throw rugs and a sleeper sofa were two of them.
Andrea padded out of the room, Billie Mae trailing her down the hall to the bathroom. The claw-footed tub was not the one she died in. The landlord, Kenny, tore that one out after Billie Mae died. Sitting on the toilet while Billie Mae watched, Andrea told herself yet again that she didn't mind. Her little sister used to do the exact same thing and there was no way to make her stop, anyway.
While she washed her hands and face, Billie Mae climbed into the tub and sat there blinking up at her. Andrea set her timer for two minutes, and one minute into brushing her teeth, Billie Mae blipped out of her life until next time, or until Andrea made bacon, whichever came first.
She decided that after her run, she would make coffee for Taka and a pop-tart for herself.
******
Since the front of Taka's unmarked Crown Vic met with the side of the alleged killer's car sometime before he staggered onto her front porch, dropped off by a uniform, Andrea still had the pleasure of his somewhat discontented company after breakfast. He wasn't much of a morning person at the best of times, and she was just the opposite. "So, detective," she said as her FX settled to the right after he levered himself down into the passenger seat. The little blue Infinity SUV was getting old, but she didn't like the newer ones as much and it suited her work just fine. She wondered, not for the first time, if she needed to replace Taka or the suspension. It'd be a close call this morning.
At six feet, Taka was shorter than Andrea's little brother, and only two inches taller than her, but built solid. A result, he said, of the Cherokee blood contributed by his grandmother to a long linage of Irish-English stock. Andrea thought it more likely the mix of Maori and African blood laid over the Asian on his other side. He'd recently taken up the term 'person of color' and seemed a lot happier when white people invariably asked about his heritage.
"Yes?" he said, looking sideways at her. He knew she had a fascination with him. Without mercy, he'd teased her about it ever since they'd been paired up in science at Harrington Junior High, up the road in Dunning. William Taka was Andrea's best and oldest friend.
Catching on, a smile broke across his face like a growing fissure in a rock.
"Yeah," she said. "Use your key, next time."
"I lost my keys," he said cheerfully. "That's why I'm here and not there."
He lived with his girlfriend, Melinda. She was tall like Andrea, but built on a tiny bird's frame topped with a luxurious mane of fake red hair . Also unlike Andrea, she was frilly and girly and had a viper's tongue installed in place of her absent compassion. Apparently there were other compensating factors, but hopefully Taka would tire of them sooner rather than later.
Rolling her eyes, Andrea said, "Her highness wouldn't let you in if you knocked?"
"She sleeps with ear plugs and a white noise machine. I didn't even try."
Taka was a light sleeper, and while he didn't tuck his gun under his pillow, because he wasn't an idiot, he always kept it close. Each of his three stints in inter-agency undercover had changed him, made him a darker, edgier, older version than the Taka he used to be.
"How can you sleep with all that loud shush-shush going on?"
"I don't," he said, his smile fading.
That explained a lot, actually, including the heavy shadows under his eyes that eight hours of unusual-for-him deep sleep hadn't even touched. He waved a hand at the empty carport surrounding them and the maple tree at its rear, which was shedding gold leaves onto them from the force of the cold breeze that had kicked up into a gusty cloud mover in the few minutes they'd been not really talking. "Are we working here today?"
Andrea started the FX.
'The Bear' excerpt is further along the way and in transition, but the 'Billie Mae' excerpt is the very beginning on the book and feedback is welcome. Does it work for you as a start? Does it make you interested in reading more?
I exceeded my goal! I got 3561 words on a new novella, "The Bear" AND I cut 6000 words from my novel "Billie Mae", while adding a new scene of 1222 words.
Excerpt from "The Bear"- Sami is living on Beech Mountain, NC while she recovers from a traumatic incident in which she failed to save a drowning victim. Josh is living at his father's while he trains for a mountain 5K called 'The Bear':
142
There is a web strung from the middle of the exposed beam above my head to the built-in bookcase that serves as a headboard behind me. Every time I close my eyes, Brutus scrapes his teeth along my ribs. The spider is small. I can only see it when it moves.
It doesn't move much.
140
It's after sunrise, but not much. Still, I slept five hours in one stretch and I feel good. I ran uphill first and downhill coming home, two days in a row. Today, I turn right at Pond Creek and trot down the stairs. Bouncing off the last stair onto the biggest rock edge one stride out, I take one calculated step after another until I'm ricocheting down the trail, lost in the hum of my rhythm, eyes finding each safe landing for my next step. I don't register the dark shape until I'm by it. Straightening my upper body, I slow over three strides and glance over my shoulder.
Josh detaches himself from the beech holding him up. I take two more strides, waiting for his voice. It doesn't come. I settle back into my pace, follow the curve of the creek bed right. I feel him coming. I lengthen my stride and leap when the trail crosses Pond Creek. Josh splashes through a second later.
Something dark and angry rises up inside me and I spin around before I've stopped. My feet are slower than my body. I fall down backwards, landing on my palms and ass. It's rocky and wet. Josh stops and looks down at me. He isn't breathing hard. He looks like he just woke up. He settles on his heels and crosses his arms like he's prepared to wait hours for me to stand back up.
"What are you doing?" I yell at him.
"Running."
It speaks.
"Can you run somewhere else?"
He looks into the woods to his left.
He looks into the woods to his right.
He looks at me and then lets his gaze rise to the trail beyond me.
The one I'm blocking.
As he's shaking his head slower than a sloth, I get up.
I turn my back on him and run.
Excerpt from "Billie Mae"- Andrea Kelley, a research librarian, and her best friend, Detective William Taka, have a ghost problem. Billie Mae's mother confessed to her murder and is serving life in prison, but once other murdered children are discovered near by, Billie Mae launches into tantrum mode. In desperate response, Andrea and Taka go on the hunt for a killer and the truth of Billie Mae's death, but someone else is also on the hunt...for revenge against Taka, and Andrea is standing square on the bull's eye-:
"I drownded."
Andrea blinked her eyes open in the dark to squint at Billie Mae Robbins.
All of six, with flaxen hair, Billie Mae had the bluest eyes south of a sunny sky. And she glowed, just a bit, as she stood next to the bed. As usual, she wore a white cotton nightgown, the kind that only went to the knees. Today, a vivid purple bruise crossed the midpoint of her throat, thin as wire, staining the skin below it in a lighter hue until it faded above her collarbone.
"I don't think you drowned," Andrea murmured. She didn't want to wake Taka. He lay sprawled over more than half her bed, but since he'd tracked and nailed a killer in a little over thirty-nine hours without sleep, she was letting him have more than his fair share. Plus he was big and pretty and threw a lot of body heat, a total plus during October in West Virginia.
"I drownded."
She had this conversation with Billie Mae three or four times a week. She'd move, but she loved the house and Billie Mae's antics made the rent cheap for a two-story on a quiet cul-de-sac ten minutes from downtown Charleston. The cute landlord, Kenny, threw in weekly lawn mowing after the first time she called him looking for answers. Although he claimed Andrea was the first treated to an actual appearance by Billie Mae, Kenny admitted she was the first tenant to last longer than three months in years.
"I drownded all by myself," Billie Mae insisted.
Andrea rolled onto her side to face the little girl. Billie Mae looked very serious. There was another conversation they had sometimes when Andrea made bacon, which she made more now than ever simply because it was fun to see Billie Mae laugh. But this particular conversation was solemn and grave and almost always took place just before dawn broke and filled the master bedroom with muted brightness. She only found it annoying when Billie Mae woke her on Sundays, the one day Andrea didn't get up early to run. Since it was Friday, Andrea whispered back, “I don't think you did.”
"I did," Billie Mae shouted, stomping her bare foot, little fists clinched tight. Andrea flinched, even though she expected it and knew Taka couldn't hear her.
"Where?"
She pointed out the window. Fed by a branch of the Elk River, with about twenty custom homes on large lots built along a portion of the shoreline, Lake Vickers lay a good half-mile away. After sunrise, Andrea knew, the lake might be visible through that window as a flat grey smudge beyond the fog-wreathed reds and yellows of the trees growing across all the yards downslope from her.
"Your mother strangled you in the bath tub, Billie Mae," Andrea whispered. She made an effort to say it as a statement of fact, to not be mean. Usually she remembered to soften 'strangle' to 'suffocate', but it had been weeks upon weeks of this dialogue already.
Billie Mae's face crumpled, tears welled and then spilled onto her porcelain cheeks. She shook her head. Andrea couldn't ignore her. She lifted the covers, letting the cool air rush in, and sat up, swinging her legs over the edge of the mattress. Taka grunted and grabbed at the blankets, pulling them back in close. The hardwood floor was cold under Andrea's feet. She shivered. There were still things she needed for the house. Throw rugs and a sleeper sofa were two of them.
Andrea padded out of the room, Billie Mae trailing her down the hall to the bathroom. The claw-footed tub was not the one she died in. The landlord, Kenny, tore that one out after Billie Mae died. Sitting on the toilet while Billie Mae watched, Andrea told herself yet again that she didn't mind. Her little sister used to do the exact same thing and there was no way to make her stop, anyway.
While she washed her hands and face, Billie Mae climbed into the tub and sat there blinking up at her. Andrea set her timer for two minutes, and one minute into brushing her teeth, Billie Mae blipped out of her life until next time, or until Andrea made bacon, whichever came first.
She decided that after her run, she would make coffee for Taka and a pop-tart for herself.
******
Since the front of Taka's unmarked Crown Vic met with the side of the alleged killer's car sometime before he staggered onto her front porch, dropped off by a uniform, Andrea still had the pleasure of his somewhat discontented company after breakfast. He wasn't much of a morning person at the best of times, and she was just the opposite. "So, detective," she said as her FX settled to the right after he levered himself down into the passenger seat. The little blue Infinity SUV was getting old, but she didn't like the newer ones as much and it suited her work just fine. She wondered, not for the first time, if she needed to replace Taka or the suspension. It'd be a close call this morning.
At six feet, Taka was shorter than Andrea's little brother, and only two inches taller than her, but built solid. A result, he said, of the Cherokee blood contributed by his grandmother to a long linage of Irish-English stock. Andrea thought it more likely the mix of Maori and African blood laid over the Asian on his other side. He'd recently taken up the term 'person of color' and seemed a lot happier when white people invariably asked about his heritage.
"Yes?" he said, looking sideways at her. He knew she had a fascination with him. Without mercy, he'd teased her about it ever since they'd been paired up in science at Harrington Junior High, up the road in Dunning. William Taka was Andrea's best and oldest friend.
Catching on, a smile broke across his face like a growing fissure in a rock.
"Yeah," she said. "Use your key, next time."
"I lost my keys," he said cheerfully. "That's why I'm here and not there."
He lived with his girlfriend, Melinda. She was tall like Andrea, but built on a tiny bird's frame topped with a luxurious mane of fake red hair . Also unlike Andrea, she was frilly and girly and had a viper's tongue installed in place of her absent compassion. Apparently there were other compensating factors, but hopefully Taka would tire of them sooner rather than later.
Rolling her eyes, Andrea said, "Her highness wouldn't let you in if you knocked?"
"She sleeps with ear plugs and a white noise machine. I didn't even try."
Taka was a light sleeper, and while he didn't tuck his gun under his pillow, because he wasn't an idiot, he always kept it close. Each of his three stints in inter-agency undercover had changed him, made him a darker, edgier, older version than the Taka he used to be.
"How can you sleep with all that loud shush-shush going on?"
"I don't," he said, his smile fading.
That explained a lot, actually, including the heavy shadows under his eyes that eight hours of unusual-for-him deep sleep hadn't even touched. He waved a hand at the empty carport surrounding them and the maple tree at its rear, which was shedding gold leaves onto them from the force of the cold breeze that had kicked up into a gusty cloud mover in the few minutes they'd been not really talking. "Are we working here today?"
Andrea started the FX.
'The Bear' excerpt is further along the way and in transition, but the 'Billie Mae' excerpt is the very beginning on the book and feedback is welcome. Does it work for you as a start? Does it make you interested in reading more?