Quotes from Bella and Gerard

Since I have not finished even the first draft of Bella and Gerard, it is perhaps a little bit premature to tell you much about it. At this point, even I do not know all the twists and turns this tale may take. However, with that disclaimer, I give you the premise of the story:

Bella's aunts could not understand why their sister had left her only child to the care of the black sheep of the family. When he disappeared within a week of receiving guardianship, they said good-riddance to him and dutifully took over the raising of Bella. They never expected him to show up 7 years later to take her away. Against the advice of the aunts, Bella and Gerard embark on a journey that proves to be quite a learning curve for both of them!

And here are some quotes from the first few chapters:

~ She grasped handfuls of cut grass clippings and tossed them over her head, feeling the blades pitter-patter across her face as they returned to earth. It was good to be alive. ~

~ ...although there was something adventurous and exciting about being kidnapped in the middle of the night by your uncle. ~

~ She didn’t know how Gerard did it, but he was a boy. Boys, doubtless, had special powers. ~

~ Bella hesitated and then asked, “Do you have any clean sheets?”

Gerard got up and rummaged in the closet and the bedroom, but he came up empty. “I guess not,” he said, apologetically. He fingered the sheet that was on the bed. “But," he commented in a matter-of-fact tone, "this one is not that dirty." ~

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A Hard Goodbye

"You're more poet than anything." I folded my arms and glared at Ian. He sat perched on the edge of the roof, dressed like an adventurer. I coveted every part of his outfit -- the breezy shirt made of course cloth, the sturdy breeches, the leather boots that laced up to his calves, the dagger on his hip. Tomorrow he would set sail to a life I craved more than anything. But did he appreciate his opportunities? No. And I hated him for it. "Do you despise poets, Ingrid?" His voice was sad, but a grin twisted at the corners of his mouth as he finished his question. Those blue eyes of his cut in my direction with a teasing flash. "They don't DO anything." My thoughts and emotions ran in torrents, but I could see his flowing smoothly and quietly. Even in his uneasiness about the morrow, his face was a peaceful as a child falling asleep in his own bed. ...

The Countdown: Eight Days

Eight days. Do you know what that means? Barely over a week. Tomorrow will be one week from the announcement date. Are you excited? I am. So, today, I want to talk to those who wrote something for the contest, whether or not you entered it in the end. What made you start writing your story? What was the first inkling of an idea that tickled your brain? What was it that you liked about your premise? As you wrote, did you have a favorite character or a favorite scene? And are you glad you wrote it down? Do you feel like you learned and grew in your ability as a writer as you tried out things for this contest? And, if your story isn't included in this year's Rooglewood anthology (either because you didn't submit it or because it didn't fit with the other four stories selected), what will you do with it? Will you market it elsewhere? Or will you lock it away in a drawer?

Goodbye and God Be With You

It's rather fitting that some things come to a close on this day -- the last day of the year. I submitted my last entry into the Rooglewood contest this morning. I can hardly believe it took me until the day of the deadline to send it in because I'm usually earlier than that. And, even with the extra time I took, I still felt a little bit like maybe I could have done better if I had more time. But there was no feeling of regret when I hit "send." Mostly it was just a prayer that Rooglewood would hear the heart of the message when they read it and that maybe, if I win, they could help me bring the full potential out of my little story. And there was also a feeling, after working on these stories for more than six months, that it felt good to close that chapter and move on to the next one. I did it. I wrote them. And I'm really proud of them. Last year, the act of hitting "send" on my contest entry catapulted me into an anticipatory state....

The Pen of a Ready Writer

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