I'm writing again and most importantly feeling inspired to do so again. I have no idea if this is going to take me anywhere or if it will remain just another venue to express myself. Either way it feels damn good.
I don't have a solid idea of plot yet, more just a vague notion of emotions and situations my characters have to go through to get them where they need to be.
My biggest motivation really for all of this is that I am so tired of trying to find good books. I am a very picky reader. I read multiple reviews on different websites, browse goodread's recommendation and spend hours just picking out my next read. I go through all that work only to find myself disappointed again and again.
I love stories that are character driven. I want to see the transformation of a character and I want to FEEL as they struggle to over come and grow. I love stories that are dark and but beautiful and hopeful still. I want action, struggle, pain, blood, tears, but poignancy and moments of joy too. I know, it is a tall order.
Some of the authors and series that have accomplished this are Karen Marie Moning's Fever Series. I sort of want to be Mac when I grow up. Minus the fascination with pink though. ;) This story is about transformation and I love that there is no real villain or hero. This whole series is great at capturing moments of utter despair and giving up along side far more moments of joy and triumph. A book that makes me laugh, cry, and heart speed up in always a keeper.
I'm also a huge fan of Kresley Cole's Immortals After Dark series. There are a lot of books in the series and again it has that wonderful contrast that I love. Imagine bad ass women and some men capable of ruling the world if they so choose but instead are witty and funny and very tongue in cheek. I can't wait for Nucking Futs Nix to finally get her story.
I tried a light heart comedic romance for the first time recently called Wallbanger by Alice Clayton. Mostly when reading, I chuckle more in my head then out loud. With this one I actually giggle/snorted a few times. The lead is perfectly ridiculous and funny. During a few of her melt downs I thought to myself that if I were to ever just left my rage go, this is exactly what I would say in her situation too. Plus the need to give people nicknames is very much something I do too when I don't actually know someones name. Haha. Seeing Wallbanger and Pink Nightie Girl go head to head was great.
Now back to writing, I so rarely find gems like Wallbanger anymore. And I can only re-read and/or re-listen to a book so many times. I think it is time for me to step in. I'm going to write a book. It is finally going to happen from start to finish.
In the past I would be overcritical and just give up on a project. This time I'm just going for it. I don't care if no one sees it but my Mom and best friends or if I self publish. I am going to write THE book I've always wanted to read.
Here is all I have so far. It isn't much and I've expanded further since I wrote this late last night but this is just the beginning. I can't wait to see where these characters take me next. Please any feed back is always welcomed.
Once upon a time a girl fell in love with a monster…
When I was small and afraid I would lay awake at night and
count my heart beats. It is a practice that I never left behind.
“I love you,” he said softly standing before me.
I could see the utter sincerity in his eyes. I could feel
the complexity and endless depth of emotion within the deceivingly simple
words. His voice ran over me, so familiar and I could feel my body leaning in
towards him.
I knew this man. I knew how the hollows of his body felt
against my own. I knew the way the skin on his neck smelled. I knew what if
felt like when his lips curve into a smile as he kissed me. I knew that his
hands, which had dealt so much death could also be gentle and warm and fit
around mine perfectly. I knew that he could make me laugh until I hurt and he
had a quiet intelligence that burned brightly. From the first moments his very
being called to me. It was as if on a deep before unknown level, I was pulled
towards him.
I am imperfect person and despite everything I couldn’t
fight myself anymore. I stepped towards him and let my body rest into his and
just like I remembered, my head fit perfectly into the hollow between his
collar bones. I could feel his heartbeat against my check and smell his clean
scent and my mind was too full of memories.
I felt my shoulders start to tremble as I tried to hold back
my tears and I let my arm snake around his back pulling him closer. My hand
fisted against his worn shirt drinking in his warmth. I finally looked up at him and took in his
face. Dark unruly hair, unshaven firm jaw, soft full lips, his nose that never
healed straight after too many fights, and his eyes. I knew his eyes the best.
Drowning brown with a thick fringe of lashes.
He stared at me nervous and afraid when nothing but a breath
separated us. I could see that he had
made the decision to trust me and finally his mouth met mine on an exhale. His
warm beautiful hands grasped my face softly and I knew that I called out to him
just as strongly. But I felt the trembling in my shoulders start to travel to
the rest of my body, down into my hands and legs and knew I had ran out of
time.
“I have always and
will always love you,” I finally whispered back against his lips. I couldn’t
let him see the tears that were flowing free so I rested my forehead against
his. I needed more time. Another second, another minute. A whole lifetime of
moments. I wanted forever with his man. “Always.” I finished barely able to
make myself say the words.
I opened my eyes and looked into his. We were so close together that I could feel
his long eyelashes flutter against my cheek. I watched his
eyebrows raise in surprise as a plunged the dagger I had hid behind his back,
into his side. And then I twisted it just like he taught me.
His weight fell into me as we both
sank to the ground and I dropped the bloody dagger. His eyes never left mine
and when he tried to speak, a bubble of blood was all that came out.
“Shhh,” I soothed. “Don’t try to talk. I love you so much and I am so sorry, please please forgive me. It wasn’t supposed to end this way! We were supposed to have more time!” I finished hysterically.
I wanted to scream, and I wanted
to rip my hair out and wail out my fury and despair. All I could do though was
hold the man I loved and look into the face I betrayed. He couldn’t speak but
his eyes never accused, never condemned, he just started up at me.
I just stabbed the man I loved. I
just killed him. I killed him. Oh god I killed him. My mind raced and I took a
deep breath to calm myself. Focus and count his heart beats. Just count his
heart beats you are not done yet. This isn't over yet. Just count his heart beats to get through this. Just like you did when you were little, I told myself silently.
“Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve.
Thirteen.” I stuttered out.
His blood pooled around us on the
floor, warm while his body went cold and the light in his eyes died.
His eyes never left mine and I
wanted to lie down next to him and die too. But I couldn't, I couldn't because I wasn't done yet. Oh God I wanted to be done. Hadn't I done enough? Hadn't I given enough, Hadn't we given enough.
No. I had to go. I had to go now and finish this or all of this was for nothing.
I closed my eyes and counted my heat beats until they slowed. I pushed my rage, my despair so deep inside me and let it light me up and burn. I stopped shaking. I stopped crying. The person I was before no longer existed. The last thing remaining human about me bled out on the floor along with him. . I gently moved him off me and forced myself to
stand and to walk away.
This wasn't over yet.
…and they did not live happily ever
after. At least not yet…