Monday, April 19, 2010

To: The Fairy Princess

Wow! you have such good ideas. Thanks so much! I will have to work on that stuff. I think I know what section I am going to post next, probably tomorrow so look for it :) I want to give you some insight into the real challenging conflict of the story because so far its not super obvious. And actually, if you think you know, I want to hear what you think. ;)

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Whoa! I need to revise...

Omg.. So I re-read the last piece I posted all the way through for the first time since I wrote it (yeah I'm one of those writers that write and write and write without scarcely looking back at what was written) and some of the grammar is terrible! I must have been in school mode. So I'm really sorry. lol. Just thought I should apologize.

Aspiring Author

Monday, March 15, 2010

A New Character :)

Here is some more! I was re-reading it kinda, and there is some very bad grammar where there shouldn't be, so excuse it. lol. This is the other main character of the story, Bret, I dont think he was introduced on my blog yet.


“C’mon….” I was desperately trying to get my mother’s attention. She never seemed to see me since the accident.

“Ma, I…” She wouldn’t even look at me. She hadn’t for almost a year now. I had tried in every way that I could, giving up when I landed myself in Jail, then carted off to a rehab center.

I sighed, and left her there, staring in the distance. She was supposed to be going to therapy and taking medication to help her cope, but I was almost sure she didn’t do either. I was on my own.
This town was terrible. Where the hell my mom found this shithole I will never know. I think she thought a small town would be a good place to start over; somewhere that no one knew our story. Unfortunately, since the invention of World Wide Web, nothing is unknown except how to stay out of people’s business, especially in a small town.

Of course, I made enemies of the wrong people immediately, a habit I seemed to have picked up along with the drugs and alcohol, except that was a much easier one to break. During my first week in Munday, Texas, I beat the shit out of Jake Lewis, Quarterback of the high school football team, which resulted in the cold shoulder of the rest of the town. It had been the worst year of my life. Today was August twenty-fifth, and the anniversary of two deaths that were all my fault.

I shook my head and stood up glancing at my mom one last time. I worked at the mill. It was a laborious job, and there weren’t any other high schoolers that worked there, that’s why I had picked it up. I needed the money too. School started again in a week. I didn’t relish the prospect.
The most interesting part would be Shiloh Pewitt. She was a celebrity’s daughter coming to stay with the Garrison’s, relatives, to finish the school year at a public school. Why this was, no one knew, and everyone wanted to find out. Personally, I didn’t give a rat’s ass, but it would surely be amusing to see a diva get used to these parts. Of course, gossip was getting around, and old men gossip just as much as old women, therefore I got an earful at the mill.

So far, I had learned that the few days she had been here, she had made quite the impression. Besides her flashy ways, she was going after Old Jakey. This was no surprise. She had however, gotten stuck babysitting all six of the Garrison kids by herself, overnight. Penance, hehe. The impression-maker was that she had gotten them all to church the next day on time, a feat poor Mrs. Garrison had never accomplished. And she was sixteen. Definitely a point of interest.

“Load’s a-comin’,” Louis, the ‘Mill Manager’, or Lazy-ass as I like to think of him, said when I pulled into the parking lot. ‘Mill Manager ’ was a self-appointed position, meaning he hated doing the labor stuff, so he made something up and everyone just went along with it.

“Guessing you won’t be unloading it,” I muttered.

“What’s that, son?” He asked me. I hated that all the guys here called me that. Son. They obviously didn’t understand how patronizing and antagonizing it was.

“Oh, I was wondering if you needed my help unloading it. You know John is useless,” I said, smirking slightly. John was almost as lazy as Louis, only he had an excuse of being over sixty.

“Nah, we can handle it,” Louis said absent-mindedly, already forgetting about me and moving on. I got out of the black truck that I had bought when we moved here for dirt cheap, and went to move bags of grain and flour.

Around nine, we got a call. Everyone listened as Easton, a big, black guy started laughing hysterically.

“That was John from Hank’s Hardware,” he started, hanging up the phone and turning to his audience. Work had stopped completely as we waited to hear the news about the parts we needed to fix a piece of machinery.

“He was jus’ informin’ us that a lil’ lady by the name of Shy is goin’ be bringin’ the load ‘round. And she ain’t one to mess with. He here claims to have witnessed an amazin’ ass kickin’ dished to our own Jake Lewis!” Everyone laughed in disbelief.

“Hey Bret! You’s got yourself a partner in crime!” Some dumbass yelled out as I got back to work. I smirked and hoped that she had gotten him really good.

When she pulled in, everyone was expecting her, and went to gawk. I didn’t pay attention until a half hour later, I felt her eyes on me.

I was expecting to see a Paris Hilton look-a-like, or a miniature of Beverly Pewitt, but when I looked up, I was taken aback.

She wore ripped jeans, and a black t-shirt. Her brown hair was in a ponytail, and her brown eyes were framed by fan of dark lashes. Her pale cheeks flushed slightly when I looked at her, and she immediately looked down. The most surprising part was how tiny she was. Maybe five feet tall and weighing 110 pounds, if that. She was so muscular though. I was mesmerized, that when she looked at me a second time, I hardly noticed, and then she was gone.

Louis let out a low whistle, “Not much of a looker,” he said, and I almost laughed, the statement was so untrue. I looked at him with a sad little smile. His opinion of a ‘looker’ was tall blonde in leather and red lipstick.

The rest of the mill got back to work as I pondered this girl. She didn’t look like she could beat up Jake, but she didn’t look like she had spent the last sixteen years in Hollywood either, so I suppose looks could be deceiving.

Shrugging it off, I decided I didn’t really care. I needed to get the frickin’ job done so I could go home to my miserable mother. What was I supposed to do for her, especially today, of all days? I wanted the answers to fall out of the sky, but I had long since stopped believing in miracles or God, and therefore didn’t expect anything.