I've gotten back to my editing in the last few days and am doing my best to ignore my word count has just hit 96,000. It'll be a long journey still...
As I edit, I cut and paste into a new blank document so I'll never scroll down through what I've already worked on so my final word count is more like 107,000. Considering I started at 115,000, I'm feeling pretty good about it. I removed my first major scene, reworking to hopefully flow better into the rest of the story. I thought it'd be interesting to be a side by side comparison. The first one is what I published in December and is a 1,505 word excerpt. The second one is what I've been working on and is a 1,502 word excerpt. The highlighted portion on the second excerpt is a part I still want to rephrase or delete entirely.
I'll write again soon about some new project inspirations I've had!
Anna Leigh
The Tunnel
The
tunnel was dark, so dark I couldn’t even see my hand in front of my face. I
reached to the right until my hand came in contact with a wall, then did the
same with the other hand. The tunnel was only about five feet across, the walls
bumpy like cement.
A
breeze caught in my hair, blowing the short layers out of my face. After a
minute I realized there was a small ray of light coming from the end of the
tunnel, almost impossible to see. I started forward, anxious to get out of this
thick darkness and into the light so I could see where I was. I barely caught
my footing on the uneven ground, fighting to keep my balance as I tried to walk
forward.
I
hadn’t gone far when I heard a shout behind me. I didn’t know who it was, but
my danger instincts were on red alert. Despite the uneven surface and the
darkness I broke into a slow run, afraid to be caught but worried I’d lose my
footing if I went any faster. They’re
coming after me. They’re going to get me.
I
tripped and fell against the wall, dragging my elbow across its jagged edge. I
felt the wetness of blood running down my arm but strangely enough didn’t feel
any pain. I continued to run but the light was getting more distant and hard to
see. At one point it disappeared entirely and I turned, surrounded by darkness
and dozens of footsteps pursuing me.
Why am I even running? If
I just stopped and let them catch me, at least I’d be out of this darkness.
My
legs began to go weak under me and I found I couldn’t support my weight
anymore. I dropped into a sitting position. Soon they would be here. Soon, for
better or worse, the unknown pursuers would catch up with me.
From
out of the darkness, someone took my hand. I opened my mouth to scream but
stopped, feeling the strange sensation he wasn’t the enemy.
“You
can’t give up.” The voice was quiet in my ear. It was a nice voice. A man’s
voice, I thought, but I wasn’t sure.
But
I wanted to give up. I was tired. I was bleeding. Besides, no matter how fast
and far I ran I couldn’t escape the darkness.
“You
can’t give up,” the voice repeated again, the grip on my hand getting tighter. “You
have to fight, Abby. You have to fight.”
I
frowned. “Fight what? Fight them? How can I fight them?! There are so many…”
“You
have to fight yourself,” the voice replied, making me more confused than ever. Why
would I have to fight myself?
“If
you give up now, you’ll always be surrounded by darkness. You have to fight to
see the light. Fight to come back.”
I
started to respond but suddenly another voice interrupted, jarring and
unpleasant. “You don’t understand what you’re talking about!”
The
blackness faded away abruptly and I was opening my eyes with a start. The window
to my room was open and a warm breeze blew across me accompanied by the sound
of birdsong and someone mowing their lawn. My heart was beating hard as I sat
up, reaching over and grabbing the glass of water off my bedside table. Another
nightmare. Why hadn’t I just gotten used to them by now?
More
annoyed voices carried their way through my window and I realized the neighbors
on either side of us must be having an argument again. Mr. Sawyer and Mr.
Sullivan seemed to have made a pastime out of finding reasons to fight with
each other and the emotional resonance was already starting to give me a
headache.
I
got headaches from other people’s emotions a lot, but I’d never told a soul
about it, not even my mother. She got stressed out if we didn’t have the meat
we were planning for dinner: who knows what would happen to her if she found
out what I could do.
Uh
oh. Dinner.
I
glanced down at my watch, my eyes widening when I saw that it was five thirty.
“Great.”
I hurried away from the window to check my reflection quickly in my mirror. I
hadn’t meant to sleep so late. Mom’s new friend was coming over for the first
time tonight and being groggy was not optimal.
I
ran downstairs, hearing Mom humming to herself as she worked in the kitchen. I
stopped by the doorway pulling myself together. My dad had been gone since
before I was born and Mom only talked about him now and then, making him pretty
much a total stranger to me. Thinking about the car accident seemed to upset
Mom so much she wouldn’t talk about it all, even after almost two decades. She
hadn’t ever seemed interested in finding anyone else, either, until suddenly
she met Ash. Now things were different.
“Hey,
you’re awake.” Mom looked up from her chopping board, her hair back a little
fancier than normal and a few extra swipes with her mascara apparent. “Did the
two old fighters get you up again?”
I
nodded, grabbing one of the carrots she’d cut up and popping it in my mouth. “I
really have to remember to keep my window closed if I take a nap. You’d think I’d
learn by now.”
“You’d
think they would’ve learned to stop fighting over the same things by now.” Mom
shook her head, dumping the chopped vegetables into a bowl and pouring dressing
over them. “I guess that’s what happens when people get older and don’t have
their spouse around to keep them grounded.”
Her
happiness dimmed, a twinge of sadness joining it. She’s thinking about Dad again.
“So
what time is Ash coming?” I asked, forcing myself to be more cheerful than I
felt. I’d had to unload on Callie how much I hated the name Ash. I mean, what
things are associated with that name? Ash borer? Ash heap? Cigarette ash?
Callie
told me I was being too cynical and I should really be happy for my mom she’d
gotten up the courage to start dating again. I didn’t have the heart to say
what I was thinking. I didn’t want Mom
to date again. I’d always wanted to have my dad come back but since he couldn’t,
I’d learned to be happy with just Mom and me. The idea of someone new coming
into our lives scared me, especially since I wasn’t exactly normal. Hiding it
from one person in my house was hard enough; two would be even more difficult.
“He
should be here any minute.” Mom brushed her hands off on her apron as she
checked the clock. “He seemed really interested in meeting you.”
“Really?”
I smiled. “Good - I’d like to meet him too.”
The
doorbell rang right on cue. “You get it,” Mom said. “I’ll check on the
chicken.”
I
took a deep breath, telling myself to stop feeling so grumpy and be happy for Mom.
If she could find someone who made her happy and who would take care of her, why
would I want to stop her?
Ash
was a bit taller than I’d expected him to be. He was also a bit younger and
just a little too good looking to be real. He was standing there with a bouquet
of flowers in his hands, everything in place from his hair to his overly shiny
shoes. “You must be Abby,” he said, breaking into a perfectly straightened and
whitened smile.
So
he was Captain Obvious. Oh well. Didn’t mean he wasn’t nice…
He
offered his roses and it was only then I realized he was holding two bouquets.
“For
me?” I asked. Maybe I was Captain Obvious too. Who else would he be bringing a
second bouquet for?
He
nodded and I thanked him rather awkwardly, making sure to take the flowers
without coming in contact with his skin. The constant stream of random thoughts
and emotions had become my norm but skin to skin contact brought things to a
whole new level. Contact with another human being, especially an emotional one
made my world cease to exist while I was caught up in theirs. I’d never tested
how long I could touch someone before I passed out but with the feelings I got
from short exposure, I doubted my resistance was high.
I
reluctantly stepped away from the door to give him enough room to come in. He
wiped his shoes meticulously on the door mat even though there didn’t seem to
be any good reason too. Trying way to
hard.
“Come
on in, Ash. I’m glad you were able to find your way here,” Mom said from kitchen
doorway.
“It
wasn’t difficult at all - your house is definitely the cutest in the neighborhood.”
He flashed her another of his brilliant smiles, making me cringe a little
inside.
“That’s quite a
compliment,” Mom said.
The Tunnel
The
tunnel’s darkness surrounded me, so dark I couldn't even see my hand in front
of me. I felt blindly with my hands, stopping as they came in contact with a
wall. The tunnel couldn’t be more than five feet across with walls bumpy like
brick.
A
breeze caught in my hair, blowing short layers out of my face. A small ray of
light had appeared at the end of the darkness, almost impossible to see. I
started forward, anxious to get out of the thick darkness. I caught my footing
on the uneven ground, fighting to keep my balance as I moved forward.
I’d
gone a few steps when a shout sounded behind me. I didn’t know the identity of
my pursuers but my body screamed danger. I broke into a slow run, jostling and
tripping along the uneven path. They’re
coming after me. They’re going to get me.
I
fell against the wall, dragging my elbow across its jagged edge. Sticky liquid
ran down my arm but the inevitable pain didn’t follow. I staggered onward,
watching the light recede and become even harder to reach.
A few steps more, just
a few more.
Without
a sound, it vanished. I turned in a circle, cold fear filling me with the
surrounding darkness and my pursuers footsteps.
Why am I even running?
If I’m caught, at least I’ll be out of the darkness.
My
weakened legs buckled and I dropped into a sitting position. They’d be here
soon. I would be at their mercy.
A
hand covered mine, forcing a scream halfway up my throat before I stifled it. Friend.
“You
can’t give up.” A quiet voice brushed by my ear, warm and protective. He
wouldn’t let them take me. “You can’t give up,” he repeated, his grip
tightening. “You have to fight, Abby.”
I
found my voice. “How can I fight? There’re so many…”
“Not
them. You have to fight yourself.” His voice sounded more urgent now. We were
both running out of time. “If you give up now, you’ll never get out of the
darkness. Fight to come back!”
Before
I could respond, another voice interrupted, jarring and unpleasant. “You don’t
understand what you’re talking about!”
The
blackness faded away as I sat up, opening my eyes with a start. A warm breeze
made its way through my open window, blowing across me and bringing the sound
of birdsong with it. I breathed in and out, trying to calm my thudding heart. A
little calmer now, I grabbed my glass of water and drank it with slow,
deliberate sips. Another nightmare. Why hadn’t I just gotten used to them by
now?
More
annoyed voices carried their way through my window, revealing the owner one
voice from my dream. Living between two old, curmudgeony men made for loud
summer afternoons. They’d fought with each other as long as we’d lived here.
The emotional resonance pounded away at my head, threatening to bring back my
earlier migraine.
I
still wondered if I’d done the right thing by not telling Mom about what I
could feel. She got
stressed out if we didn’t have the meat we were planning for dinner: who knows
what would happen to her if she found out what I could do.
Uh oh. Dinner.
My
alarm clocked blinked five thirty as I swung my legs over the side of the bed.
A quick check of my mirrored-self showed all the side effects of a bad
nightmare. I pushed sweaty hair out of my face, shoving it into a ponytail.
With Mom’s new friend coming over for dinner, being groggy wasn’t my optimal
condition.
Mom’s
humming reached me as I took the stairs two at time, stopping just outside the
kitchen door. She’d gone along fine after Dad’s death before shocking me by
launching back into the dating world. Two decades of silence, all my info about
the car accident coming from the papers and now this?
“Hey, you’re awake.” Mom looked up from her
chopping board, her hair curled and mascara applied liberally. “Did the two old
fighters get you up again?”
I
nodded, grabbing one of the carrots she’d cut up and popping it in my mouth. “I
forget to close my window again.”
“You’d
think they would’ve learned to stop fighting over the same things by now.” Mom
shook her head, dumping the chopped vegetables into a bowl and pouring dressing
over them. “I guess that’s what happens when people get older and don’t have
their spouse around to keep them grounded.”
Her
happiness dimmed, a twinge of sadness joining it. She’s thinking about Dad again.
“Ash
isn’t here yet?” I forced my tone to stay flat, asking the question out of
simple curiosity. I’d unloaded to Callie this morning how much I hated the name
Ash. How many nice things were associated with that name? Ash borer? Ash heap?
Cigarette ash?!
Callie
called me out on my cynicism as she usual, telling me to be happy for my Mom.
I’d kept my thoughts to myself, knowing my own selfishness in not wanting her
to date again. I’d learned to be happy with just Mom and me. The idea of
someone new coming into our lives scared me, considering my total departure
from all things normal. Hiding from one person in my house could be hard
enough; two would be even more difficult.
“He
should be here any minute.” Mom’s voice brought me back to the present. She
checked the clock again, running a hand through her hair. “He’s excited to meet
you.”
“Really?”
I smiled. “Good - I’d like to meet him too.”
The
doorbell rang right on cue. “You get it,” Mom said. “I’ll check on the
chicken.”
I
took my time getting to the door, plastering on a smile before I pulled it
open. Ash was a bit taller than I’d expected. His gelled hair challenged an
onlooker to find a fault in it, while his chiseled yet youthful face stared
back at mine. A good looking smile reflected across his attractive features,
making my own smile falter. He had a huge bouquet, far too large for a first
home date. Everything from his smile to his shined shoes screamed ‘trying too
hard’!
“You must be Abby!”
I
tried not to stare, unsure how he spoke while smiling.
“Uh…”
“You
must be Abby,” he repeated.
So
he was Captain Obvious. Oh well. I couldn’t really
count it against him…
He
offered out a bouquet, making me realize the huge bouquet had been two.
“For
me?” Great. I must be Captain Obvious too. Who else would he be bringing a
second bouquet for?
He
nodded and I took it with a short nod, my thanks sticking in my throat. Make conversation, Callie had told me. You have to make the effort.
“Thank
you.” I spoke a bit late as he crossed the threshold, closing the door behind
him. At least I’d managed to take the flowers without touching him. The
constant stream of random thoughts and emotions had become my norm but skin to
skin contact brought things to a whole new level. Now would not be a good time
to end up in his head.
He
wiped his shoes on the door mat even though it hadn’t rained in weeks. “He’ll be nervous if you stare at him with
the ‘I’ve spent the last week stalking you online’ expression.” Callie
might be sympathetic but she didn’t want me to mess things up for Mom. I
dropped my gaze, hoping it would seem welcoming.
“Ash,
glad you made it.” Mom had appeared in the narrow hallway, her excitement
bubbling over
“It’s not difficult hard to find your house. I
just looked for the cutest one on the block.” He flashed another brilliant
smile.
“We
try.” I gritted my teeth as Mom’s cheeks pinkened.
“I
can tell.” He gave her the other bouquet and her blush deepened. Mom had gone
from being a practical mother to looking like a girl on her first date. My gaze
shifted to Ash. Besides a few things Mom had told me, I didn’t know anything
about him. He’d moved to Rosedale six months ago so the normal gossip channels
didn’t have much to offer. Callie had even given Mrs. Johnson two free refills
to try and get some info but we’d ended up with a lot of speculation and two
less cups of coffee.
He
unsettled me for more than one reason. I couldn’t feel him. Even without touch,
I at least got a prompt, a wisp of emotion from everyone around me. Mom’s
excitement would be hard for a normal person to miss but aside from Ash’s
quirked eyebrows and boyish laughter, nothing told me he wanted to be here. Maybe
my nightmare had done more to my senses than I’d realized.
I followed them into the kitchen, trying to convince myself it as the nightmare. I’d had a few intense ones burn me out before.
I followed them into the kitchen, trying to convince myself it as the nightmare. I’d had a few intense ones burn me out before.
No comments:
Post a Comment