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Date Posted: 08:52:29 07/24/10 Sat
Author: debikm
Subject: Lost and Found

It's that time again! What, do I hear groaning? No! Homework is supposed to be fun! Come with me please...

1. Things Found: Awhile back, we talked about things we or our characters lost. Now, let's find something. A penny on the sidewalk, a lost puppy, our mojo, whatever it is, let's hear about it.

2. Line, please!: Use the following line in a scene: "You won't believe what I just got in the mail."

So, take what you want, leave the rest and let's see some sparks of inspiration turn into raging infernos!!! I want some '70's disaster movie-style fun going on!

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[> Found! >>>> -- Page, 18:05:12 07/25/10 Sun

The prompt about things found fits neatly into something I'm working on, so I decided to go with it and see what happens. It's just part of a longer passage, and I'll probably go back and flesh out the last part a bit more, but here's how Sherry found the love she thought she'd lost:

Excerpt from working title Royal Orleans
©2010 by Juli Page Morgan
Posted for purposes of critique only and does not constitute publication

Now that the morning sickness had passed, Sherry thought the near-constant exhaustion was the worst part of being pregnant. Oh sure, she wasn’t thrilled at the new and interesting shapes her body was coming up with, but she could cope with that. Being tired all the time, though, was affecting her performance at work and as a single mother she couldn’t have that. Whenever she thought of the pitiful amount in her savings account, a wave of panic would sweep over her. There was no way she could lose her job, not and remain in New Orleans.

At those times she felt an almost unbearable ache to contact Geoff and tell him about the baby. She knew there was no way he’d allow his child to grow up without everything it needed. But, damn it! She didn’t want him to come back just because she’d forgotten to take her stupid birth control pill once. It was selfish, but she wanted him to come back because he wanted her, not because he thought he had to.

Dropping onto the bed, she buried her head in the pillow to cool her burning cheeks. Every time she thought of that last conversation with Geoff she blushed with fury at herself. She still had no idea why she’d said those things that drove him away from her. Instead of trying to be cool and hip and non-clingy, it would have been far, far better for him to have discovered how madly she’d fallen in love with him. Then he would have had a choice in whether to stay with her or go. But she’d fucked all that up with her stupid pride. Even though she’d not seen his face, the hurt in his voice had been more than clear, and from his continued silence she assumed he had no intention of ever contacting her again.

Tears stung her eyes and she blinked them away. It was her own fault she’d lost love almost as soon as she’d found it, and crying about it would do no good. Still, her mind refused to leave the well-worn tracks it ran over so often, wondering again just what Geoff had felt for her. She’d just assumed he thought of her as a brief fling, hence her determination to hide how much she loved him. But when she’d tried to make it seem as if she agreed with whole fling thing, and in the process screwing it up and making him think she was over it, he’d sounded so…wounded. What if he didn’t see it as something fleeting and temporary? What if he’d…

The soft chime of the doorbell interrupted the endless flow of “what ifs,” and she sat up, frowning. Neither Tonya nor Melody had said anything about coming by, but the security guard wouldn’t let through anyone not on Sherry’s approved list of visitors. She hauled herself from the bed in a hurry, hoping the presence of a friend, no matter which one it was, would help take her mind off her misery.

She flipped on the porch light, peered through the peep hole in the door, and felt her heart constrict with a heavy, almost uncomfortable thump when she saw Geoff standing on her porch. Her first reaction was to slink back into the bedroom and hide, but turning on the porch light had given away the fact that she was there. Her hand went to the chain before she remembered the baby. She was five months gone now, and there was no hiding her belly, no matter how loose her clothing was.

Panicked, her gaze swept the living room and settled on the rust-colored knee-length sweater she’d worn that day in lieu of a coat. It lay over the arm of the couch where she’d tossed it upon returning from work, and she rushed across the room to throw it on. Her shaking fingers stumbled over the buttons, and she finally gave up and wrapped the garment around her, holding it closed with her arms. Taking a deep, fortifying breath, she slid the chain loose and unlocked the deadbolt before opening the door.

Oh, God, how had she lived four months without seeing those beautiful brown eyes looking into hers? How had she gone on breathing without sharing the same air as he? How had her heart continued to beat without his presence to keep it going? How in the hell was she going to get through the next few minutes without falling at his feet? She licked her lips and tried to smile.

“Well, this is a surprise.”

“Yeah.” One side of his mouth turned up in an uncertain smile. “I hope it’s okay.”

“Of course it is. I’m glad to see you.” Sherry took a deep breath. “Come on in; it’s cold out there.”

“Thanks.” As Geoff passed by her into the apartment, Sherry noticed for the first time his carry-on bag slung over his shoulder and realized this wasn’t going to be a quick visit. “I didn’t know New Orleans had such cold weather.”

“It is November, you know.” Sherry closed the door and turned to face him, locking her knees so they wouldn’t tremble. “It’s probably a lot warmer in L.A.”

“I’m sick of L.A.” Geoff shrugged out of his brown leather bomber jacket and dropped it on the couch. “I’m sick of that stupid album, and I’m especially sick of Xander.” With a sigh, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Plus, I want to talk to you.”

“Okay.” Sherry fought to keep the quiver from her voice. “What about?”

“About why you broke things off with me, that’s what.”

“Oh. That.” She should have known; Geoff had never been anything but direct and to the point.

“Yes, that.” Geoff’s brow creased. “I wasn’t expecting that, Sherry, and I’d like to know just what the hell happened.”

Sherry pulled her sweater tighter around her, unable to meet his eyes. “Well, to be honest, I wasn’t intending to break it off with you.”

Geoff’s sigh was distinctly irritated. “I must say you gave every indication that’s what you were doing.”

“No, I…” She shook her head. “I was just trying to let you know that I…I mean, that we…I just wanted to let you know I wasn’t trying to tie you down or anything. It just didn’t come out right.”

“You can say that again.” Geoff sat on the arm of the couch. “You’ve put me through hell for the last four months, woman.”

“What?” Her eyes stuttered to his and her breath caught at the depth of emotion she saw there. “I put you through hell?”

“You did. Did you ever stop to think that perhaps I liked being tied to you?”

Sherry had to swallow past the sudden lump in her throat before she could speak. “But you never said anything.”

“No,” he sighed. “I didn’t think I had to. I thought you knew. But I won’t make that mistake again.” His lips tightened for an instant. “I should have told you a long time ago, but better late than never, right?” He drew in a deep breath. “Sherry, I…”

“Wait.” She held up her hand. “Before you say anything, Geoff, there’s something I have to tell you.”

A look of wariness clouded his eyes. “What is it?”

After several moments of opening and closing her mouth like a landed trout, Sherry gave up and dropped her sweater to the floor. When she risked a nervous glance at Geoff, she found him still regarding her warily.

“Well?” he asked. “What is it?”

He’d not taken his eyes from her face and hadn’t noticed the slight bulge in her Tulane University T-shirt. With a ragged sigh, Sherry smoothed her hands over the fabric, accentuating the proof of her pregnancy. “This.”

Geoff’s eyes followed the movement of her hands and froze as he realized what he was seeing. It seemed like years before he looked her in face again, his eyes filled with an unfamiliar light. “Is it mine?” he whispered.

In shock, Sherry stepped back. “How can you say that?” she gasped. The solid feel of the door behind her was the only thing keeping her upright. “You think I’ve been out sleeping with every man in New Orleans? You think I just went out and got knocked up by some random fool after you and I...after all we…”

“No!” Geoff jumped to his feet. “It’s a hell of shock, that’s all. I thought you’d dumped me, alright? You never rang me, never wrote to me, didn’t have anything to do with me. I thought you were through with me. And then you spring this on me. How was I supposed to know?” His eyes suddenly filled with accusation. “Were you ever going to tell me I’m going to be a father?”

“I didn’t know how,” she whispered. Under her hands, she felt the baby nudge her from inside as if to say now was as good a time as any. Gathering her courage, she took a deep breath. “I'd just finished fucking things up by trying to tell you I wouldn't try to tie you down when I found out about the baby. I would have sounded pretty stupid calling you back with that kind of news, wouldn't I? But I forgot to take my pill the day of Michael’s funeral. The next day I realized it and I took two.” She bit her bottom lip. “But by that time it was too late, because when we got home from the funeral we…”

“We celebrated life.” There was a tremor in Geoff’s voice, and she saw his throat move as he swallowed. He sank back down to the arm of the couch and stared at her with what appeared to be hope.

For some ridiculous reason, she suddenly felt shy. Unable to meet his gaze any longer, she dropped her eyes to the floor. “We sure did.”

“Come here, Sherry.” He sighed when she didn’t move, and beckoned her with two fingers. “Please. Come here.”

Taking that first step toward him was hard; it felt like her feet had been nailed to the floor. Then, once she got moving, it was like wading through a waist-high vat of molasses. She stumbled to a stop in front of him and watched as he placed his hand on the swell of the baby. The warmth of his hands went through the gray cotton of her shirt as he fitted his palms around the bulge. “How long?” he asked.

“The doctor said the first week of May.” Sherry’s breath stopped when he lifted the hem of the T-shirt and held it out of the way with one hand. With the other, he gently traced the slight curve before he leaned forward and pressed his lips to her skin.

Sherry released a shuddering sigh, and her hands clenched into fists to keep from burying themselves in his hair. When he laid his cheek against her belly, she closed her eyes at the feel of his emerging beard against her sensitive skin. “You’re not mad?” she whispered.

“No.” His voice sounded thick. “No, I’m not mad. How could I be mad about something so lovely?” His warm lips pressed against her again and the thickness in his voice intensified. "I just thought I loved you before, but it’s nothing to how much I love you now.”

“You love me?” Sherry’s voice came out in a squeak.

Geoff looked up at her, his lashes wet. “Yeah, I love you, you ridiculous girl.”

“Oh, Geoff.” When she tried to blink away her tears, they overflowed and ran down her cheeks. “I love you, too.”

“Damn good thing, that.” He stood, keeping one hand protectively over their baby, and cupped the back of her head with the other. “Because you’re not getting rid of me again. Got it?”

“Got it,” she whispered before his mouth covered hers.

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[> [> Beautiful...wow... -- debikm, 18:45:20 07/25/10 Sun

I love this. Really. It makes me want to cry with how sweet, but real it is. Everything is awkward and uncomfortable and neither of them was the one to break things off. How much more real and human can characters get? Page, you've made me so happy to see how they've managed to find each other again.

Now to try and come up with something myself. I've only been trying since yesterday...

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[> [> [> Awwww! Thank you, Debi! >>> -- Page, 23:40:37 07/30/10 Fri

Making someone cry is good, right? It made me feel good, twisted as that sounds. LOL! Thank you! Since it's the first (and very rough) draft I've still got some fleshing out to do, but your reaction about the feel of scene lets me know not to screw too much with it.

Now to write the follow up from Geoff's POV. All I have so far is:
"It didn't matter how much of a shock it was; he could have handled it better. After so many years of having his every utterance dissected by the music press and by over-analytical fans, he'd learned not to blurt out the first thing that came into his head. But he'd done just that when Sherry had shown him her belly. Geoff cringed, imagining a future conversation with his child:
'Hey, Dad, what did you say when Mum told you she was pregnant with me?'
'Well, son, I said, "Is it mine?"'
Oh, bloody hell."

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[> [> Re: Found! >>>> -- Cheryl H. (Nervous), 01:51:39 07/28/10 Wed

Hello Juli,

I'm a newbie here in Lollybrock, so I'm a bit nervous. I enjoyed your excerpt...very nicely done. I'm not a writer, but I do love to read. Personally, I really like details. (Probably why I love DG's books :) I smiled when you described the "Tulane University T-shirt". Not just any ol' shirt, but one I can picture in my mind. Good choice.

Two things for consideration...

1) "But she’d fucked all that up with her stupid pride."

I think this sentence needs more around it. It feels like the summary of an inner conversation. Maybe a less direct route to the real reason behind her actions.(Of course, this may be in another section.) Maybe something like...
"But she'd fucked all that up. What a stupid thing to do. And for what? Nothing more than her senseless pride." Sorry if that's corny, but you get what I mean. A bit more inner dialogue.

2)"It lay over the arm of the couch where she’d tossed it
upon returning from work, and she rushed across the room to throw it on."
I think "after work" sounds less formal than "upon returning from work".

These are my only thoughts. Keep up the great work!

Cheryl H.

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[> [> [> Welcome Cheryl! -- debikm, 06:28:30 07/28/10 Wed

>I'm a newbie here in Lollybrock, so I'm a bit nervous.

Don't be nervous! We don't bite...hard ;-)
Writer or reader, you're welcome here any time.

Debi

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[> [> [> Welcome to the Lit Forum, Cheryl! >>>> -- Page, 23:48:47 07/30/10 Fri

We're so glad to have you here! Feel free to jump right in, and don't be nervous.

Thank you SO much for reading my excerpt! It's a first draft, and very rough, so I really appreciate your suggestions for when I start cleaning it up and polishing it.

You're spot on about Sherry's gaffe being in an earlier scene. The minute she hung up the phone she knew she'd said everything in exactly the wrong way and that he took it wrong, too. That's where she does the majority of beating herself up over it although she hasn't stopped much in the intervening months.

Again, we're glad you're here!

Hugs,
Page

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[> [> A bit late bur here it comes ;) -- Lady Morilka, 08:34:56 08/07/10 Sat

Ok, my point of view might be ab bit clouded here being pregnant myself, but I'll do my best ;)

>Excerpt from working title Royal Orleans
>©2010 by Juli Page Morgan
>Posted for purposes of critique only and does not
>constitute publication
>
>Now that the morning sickness had passed, Sherry
>thought the near-constant exhaustion was the worst
>part of being pregnant. Oh sure, she wasn’t thrilled
>at the new and interesting shapes her body was coming
>up with, but she could cope with that. Being tired
>all the time, though, was affecting her performance at
>work and as a single mother she couldn’t have that.
Why is she tired, is she having trouble sleeping or is it 'just' the pregnancay taking a toll on her body? For me the first 4 month was the first, now (7th month) it is the later.
>Whenever she thought of the pitiful amount in her
>savings account, a wave of panic would sweep over her.
Maybe a little, fleeting, thought about what she is still needing to buy for the little one would add to the panic here and make it more palpable.
> There was no way she could lose her job, not and
>remain in New Orleans.
>
>At those times she felt an almost unbearable ache to
>contact Geoff and tell him about the baby. She knew
>there was no way he’d allow his child to grow up
>without everything it needed.
This sounds weired to me. Is she wanting to contact Geoff because if the money or because of the despair? It sounds like the first one, but from what I get from her character later I would find the 2nd more suiting. Maybe you could voice it as the feeling that it would be so much easier to go through all this if the weight would be put on two sets of shoulders.
But, damn it! She
>didn’t want him to come back just because she’d
>forgotten to take her stupid birth control pill once.
>It was selfish, but she wanted him to come back
>because he wanted her, not because he thought he had
>to.
I like that bit a lot! Showes how torn she is.
>
>Dropping onto the bed, she buried her head in the
>pillow to cool her burning cheeks. Every time she
>thought of that last conversation with Geoff she
>blushed with fury at herself. She still had no idea
>why she’d said those things that drove him away from
>her. Instead of trying to be maybe acting is a better word here cool and cut that "and" hip and
>non-clingy, it would have been far, far better for him
>to have discovered how madly she’d fallen in love with
>him. Then he would have had a choice in whether to
>stay with her or go. But she’d fucked all that up
>with her stupid pride. Even though she’d not seen his
>face, the hurt in his voice had been more than clear,
>and from his continued silence she assumed he had no
>intention of ever contacting her again.
>
>Tears stung her eyes and she blinked them away.
Here I miss a bit of describtion. I imagine her as taking her head out of the pillow trying to pull herself together once more.
It
>was her own fault she’d lost love almost as soon as
>she’d found it, and crying about it would do no good.
>Still, her mind refused to leave the well-worn tracks
>it ran over so often, wondering again just what Geoff
>had felt for her. She’d just assumed he thought of
>her as a brief fling, hence her determination to hide
>how much she loved him. But when she’d tried to make
>it seem as if she agreed with the whole fling thing, and
>in the process screwing it up and "by" instead of "and" making him think she
>was over it, he’d sounded so…wounded. Not sure, but the sentence sound weired. Grammar is not my best but it sounds as if you switch between 2 time forms.
What if he
>didn’t hadn'd see it as something fleeting and temporary?
>What if he’d…
>
>The soft chime of the doorbell interrupted the endless
>flow of “what ifs,” and she sat up, frowning. Neither
>Tonya nor Melody had said anything about coming by,
>but the security guard wouldn’t let through anyone not
>on Sherry’s approved list of visitors. She hauled
>herself from the bed in a hurry, hoping the presence
>of a friend, no matter which one it was, would help
>take her mind off her misery.
>
>She flipped on the porch light, peered through the
>peep hole in the door, and felt her heart constrict
>with a heavy, almost uncomfortable thump when she saw
>Geoff standing on her porch. Her first reaction was
>to slink back into the bedroom and hide, but turning
>on the porch light had given away the fact that she
>was there. Her hand went to the chain before she
>remembered the baby. She was five months gone now,
>and there was no hiding her belly, no matter how loose
>her clothing was.
You could put a bit more into this paragraph to show more of her startlement and panik bevore you even use that word in the nex sentence. Just a thought.
>
>Panicked, her gaze swept the living room and settled
>on the rust-colored knee-length sweater she’d worn
>that day in lieu of a coat. It lay over the arm of
>the couch where she’d tossed it upon returning from
>work, and she rushed across the room to throw it on.
>Her shaking fingers stumbled over the buttons, and she
>finally gave up and wrapped the garment around her,
>holding it closed with her arms. Taking a deep,
>fortifying breath, she slid the chain loose and
>unlocked the deadbolt before opening the door.
How is she opening the door? throughing it open, carefulli looking around the edge,...
>
>Oh, God, how had she lived four months without seeing
>those beautiful brown eyes looking into hers? How had
>she gone on breathing without sharing the same air as
>he? How had her heart continued to beat without his
>presence to keep it going? How in the hell was she
>going to get through the next few minutes without
>falling at his feet? I would add another "How had she..."(without filling it) here to let here thoughts trail away once more.
She licked her lips and tried to
>smile.
>
>“Well, this is a surprise.”
>
>“Yeah.” One side of his mouth turned up in an
>uncertain smile. “I hope it’s okay.”
>
>“Of course it is. I’m glad to see you.” Sherry took
>a deep breath. “Come on in; it’s cold out there.”
>
>“Thanks.” As Geoff passed by her into the apartment,
>Sherry noticed for the first time his carry-on bag
>slung over his shoulder and realized this wasn’t going
>to be a quick visit. “I didn’t know New Orleans had
>such cold weather.”
I like that, comes over like trying not to have silence fall between them without really knowing where to start, great.
>
>“It is November, you know.” Sherry closed the door
>and turned to face him, locking her knees so they
>wouldn’t tremble. “It’s probably a lot warmer in L.A.”
>
>“I’m sick of L.A.” Geoff shrugged out of his brown
>leather bomber jacket and dropped it on the couch.
>“I’m sick of that stupid album, and I’m especially
>sick of Xander.” With a sigh, he crossed his arms
>over his chest. “Plus, I want to talk to you.”
>
>“Okay.” Sherry fought to keep the quiver from her
>voice. “What about?”
>
>“About why you broke things off with me, that’s what.”
>
>“Oh. That.” How does she say that? weak, matter of fact,...
She should have known; Geoff had never
>been anything but direct and to the point.
>
>“Yes, that.” Geoff’s brow creased. “I wasn’t
>expecting that, Sherry, and I’d like to know just what
>the hell happened.”
>
>Sherry pulled her sweater tighter around her, unable
>to meet his eyes. “Well, to be honest, I wasn’t
>intending to break it off with you.”
Good one! ;)
>
>Geoff’s sigh was distinctly irritated. “I must say
>you gave every indication that’s what you were doing.”
Ok, here I keep waiting for a slightly startled reaction. I mean he came here to discuss something and after the first sentence gets througn off track by the statement that that was never intended. (sounds weired, but hopefully you get what I mean, I mean this "what the hell..."-feeling)
>
>“No, I…” She shook her head. “I was just trying to
>let you know that I…I mean, that we…I just wanted to
>let you know I wasn’t trying to tie you down or
>anything. It just didn’t come out right.”
>
>“You can say that again.” Geoff sat on the arm of the
>couch. “You’ve put me through hell for the last four
>months, woman.”
Why is he sitting down? because of that revealation? I would think his feelings in too much an uproar to sit still.
>
>“What?” Her eyes stuttered to his and her breath
>caught at the depth of emotion she saw there. “I put
>you through hell?”
>
>“You did. Did you ever stop to think that perhaps I
>liked being tied to you?”
>
>Sherry had to swallow past the sudden lump in her
>throat before she could speak. “But you never said
>anything.”
>
>“No,” he sighed how?. “I didn’t think I had to. I thought
>you knew. But I won’t make that mistake again.” His
>lips tightened for an instant. “I should have told
>you a long time ago, but better late than never,
>right?” He drew in a deep breath. “Sherry, I…”
>
>“Wait.” She held up her hand. “Before you say
>anything, Geoff, there’s something I have to tell you.”
How does that "wait" come out? panicked?
>
>A look of wariness clouded his eyes. “What is it?”
>
>After several moments of opening and closing her mouth
>like a landed trout, Sherry gave up and dropped her
>sweater to the floor. When she risked a nervous
>glance at Geoff, she found him still regarding her
>warily.
>
>“Well?” he asked. “What is it?”
>
>He’d not taken his eyes from her face and hadn’t
>noticed the slight bulge in her Tulane University
>T-shirt. With a ragged sigh, Sherry smoothed her
>hands over the fabric, accentuating the proof of her
>pregnancy. “This.”
>
>Geoff’s eyes followed the movement of her hands and
>froze as he realized what he was seeing. It seemed
>like years before he looked her in face again, his
>eyes filled with an unfamiliar light. “Is it mine?”
>he whispered.
>
>In shock, Sherry stepped back. “How can you say better "ask"
>that?” she gasped. The solid feel of the door behind
>her was the only thing keeping her upright. “You
>think I’ve been out sleeping with every man in New
>Orleans? You think I just went out and got knocked up
>by some random fool after you and I...after all we…”
>
>“No!” Geoff jumped to his feet. “It’s a hell of
>shock, that’s all. I thought you’d dumped me,
>alright? You never rang me, never wrote to me, didn’t
>have anything to do with me. I thought you were
>through with me. And then you spring this on me. How
>was I supposed to know?” His eyes suddenly filled
>with accusation. “Were you ever going to tell me I’m
>going to be a father?”Is he stopping before that last sentence?
>
>“I didn’t know how,” she whispered. Under her hands,
>she felt the baby nudge her from inside as if to say
>now was as good a time as any. Gathering her courage,
>she took a deep breath. “I'd just finished fucking
>things up by trying to tell you I wouldn't try to tie
>you down when I found out about the baby. I would
>have sounded pretty stupid calling you back with that
>kind of news, wouldn't I? But I forgot to take my
>pill the day of Michael’s funeral. The next day I
>realized it and I took two.” She bit her bottom lip.
>“But by that time it was too late, because when we got
>home from the funeral we…”
>
>“We celebrated life.” There was a tremor in Geoff’s
>voice, and she saw his throat move as he swallowed.
>He sank back down to the arm of the couch and stared
>at her with what appeared to be hope.
>
>For some ridiculous reason, she suddenly felt shy.
>Unable to meet his gaze any longer, she dropped her
>eyes to the floor. “We sure did.”
>
>“Come here, Sherry.” He sighed when she didn’t move,
>and beckoned her with two fingers. “Please. Come
>here.”
>
>Taking that first step toward him was hard; it felt
>like her feet had been nailed to the floor. Then,
>once she got moving, it was like wading through a
>waist-high vat of molasses. She stumbled to a stop in
>front of him and watched as he placed his hand on the
>swell of the baby. The warmth of his hands went
>through the gray cotton of her shirt as he fitted his
>palms around the bulge. “How long?” he asked.
How does the warmth of his hands feel for her? I bet no one has just caressed her belly, exeped herself, like that since she is pregnant. Does it startle her, is she feeling like pulling back, does it feel lik his hands belonge there...?
>
>“The doctor said the first week of May.” Sherry’s
>breath stopped when he lifted the hem of the T-shirt
>and held it out of the way with one hand. With the
>other, he gently traced the slight curve before he
>leaned forward and pressed his lips to her skin.
>
>Sherry released a shuddering sigh, and her hands
>clenched into fists to keep from burying themselves in
>his hair. When he laid his cheek against her belly,
>she closed her eyes at the feel of his emerging beard
>against her sensitive skin. “You’re not mad?” she
>whispered. agoin how does she wisper that?
>
>“No.” His voice sounded thick. “No, I’m not mad.
>How could I be mad about something so lovely?” His
>warm lips pressed against her again and the thickness
>in his voice intensified. "I just thought I loved you
>before, but it’s nothing to how much I love you now.”
I get what you are trying to get across here, but it sounds like he loves here now because of the child. Maybe if you change the "just thought" to a "figured" or something along that line, to make clear that the child just intensivied his feelings.
>
>“You love me?” Sherry’s voice came out in a squeak.
>
>Geoff looked up at her, his lashes wet. “Yeah, I love
>you, you ridiculous girl.”
lol
>
>“Oh, Geoff.” When she tried to blink away her tears,
>they overflowed and ran down her cheeks. “I love you,
>too.”
>
>“Damn good thing, that.” He stood, keeping one hand
>protectively over their baby, and cupped the back of
>her head with the other. “Because you’re not getting
>rid of me again. Got it?”
>
>“Got it,” she whispered before his mouth covered hers.


Despite the fact that I made numerous remarks, I really like that exerpt. What I miss mostly is the "acting" the dialoges are great, but I miss the describtions of how some of the things are said, and the interactions. As you said yourself that it needs polishing, maybe that helbs to give the whole scene more dynamic.
I do like the sentiment of the scene, and all that is going through her head, but that together with the dialoges is not making a scene complete (at least not when you have more than one person in that room).

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[> More along the lines of discovery but... Rayne's back! 1896 words -- debikm, 19:06:41 07/25/10 Sun

This is from my revision of the ending chapters of Rayne's story, the Fantasy Story That Never Ends. Kaelian and Keresh are dear friends, Keresh claims her as a sister, for those unfamiliar with my saga ;-).

The battle mentioned in the homework about things lost mortally wounded Rayne's love Garoben. As a healer, she knew better than to try and heal someone as exhausted as she was, but her heart wouldn't let her give up. She nearly died several times, saved only by magical intervention and the sharing of life-force from all her friends. Now recovering, she's lost, bereft and nearly hopeless without Garoben.
*****************
A day later Rayne was restless in the extreme. Her every breath was observed, no doubt searching for signs of relapse. She was starting to feel the chains around her wrists again with the confinement. Even the endless supply of books from the Duke's extensive library had begun to dull.

She waited until after the morning entourage left with the breakfast tray and pushed the blankets back, unwilling to admit, even to herself, how tiring that simple act was to her now. She caught her breath, and swung her legs over the edge of the bed to the floor. Another rest and she reached for the chair that always sat there. Dragging it closer, she braced her hands on it, leaned forward and pushed herself to her feet. A wave of dizziness washed over her but she waited it out with as much patience as she could. Her head cleared and she straightened slowly, her joints and spine all crackling with the effort. The pops released some tension in her long-idle muscles and she took an experimental step, dragging the chair with her for support. Her goal was a tall mirror by the washroom door. It was about halfway across the room but she was determined to make it.

The depth and breadth of her weakness shocked her. It was only now dawning on her how much of herself she had poured into trying to save Garoben. She had done what all healers were warned never to do; never were you to deplete your own life-force for a healing. A healer’s strength and energy were ripe for the taking, but that central core, the furnace that kept the body alive, that was off-limits.

There were stories of healers that had tried what she had done and died, or worse, had become living husks, mind and soul fled but the body still hanging on, until, unable to feed or care for itself, the body too gave up. Rayne had nearly put out her own fires in the attempt to rekindle the spark that burned in Garoben. All in vain. Sorrow rose, closing her throat and stinging her eyes, but she clenched her jaw, biting her tongue. The pain and taste of blood in her mouth reminded her that she still lived, despite the empty place at her side that she had been certain Garoben would fill for years to come.

The mirror loomed before her; she placed her chair-crutch to the side to give herself an unimpeded view of her body in the glass. The short nightshirt hung on her like a sack; her face was hollow and her wrists and ankles looked skeletal. Her skin, always fair, was translucent; she felt sure if the light were to hit her just right, she would be able to see the bones silhouetted beneath. Her hair hung lank and rumpled and, when she turned her head, she was astonished to see that the white lock at her left brow was twice as wide as it had been.

Letting go of the chair, after a pause to ensure her balance remained, she pulled the tunic up and off to assess the rest of her body. Her ribs and collarbones were prominent and her hipbones were easily seen, tenting the skin over them slightly. But oddly, her breasts were still rounded and her belly, while concave just below the ribs, jutted in a gentle swell between her hipbones. The strong morning sunlight lit her and threw a shadow of the bump across her right side. She held onto the chair again with one hand while the other traced the rise of belly and breast. She moved closer to the mirror; under the pale skin of her breasts she could see the fine blue tracery of veins, more prominent than usual. The nipples were darker and fuller; when she touched one she gasped at how sensitive they were. Her hand moved further down to cup the budding in her belly and she was brought up short by that image. Bud. The small, tightly closed bud she’d seen as she stood before the Veil talking to Angus when she was close to death. He’d seen it too, and told her the choice was hers to make, go back or join them; live or die. But he had helped her make that decision by not encouraging her to cross the Veil to her family. He’d known she had a new family here, even if she didn’t know it herself. All the signs and symptoms of pregnancy had been there for her to see, but she had ignored them, her mind too full of other business that needed tending.

Her mind followed a trail of memory and she thought of the Beltane fire and her and Garoben’s long night beside it, celebrating the fertility of the fields and earth, joining earth and sky over and over again. Her courses had not come again since then, but she had written it off to the stress and worry about the upcoming confrontation.

Conceived on Beltane, her birthday, it was a good beginning for a little one. Children conceived at Beltane were children of the God and Goddess Themselves. Rayne closed both hands protectively over the little bump of a belly. I helped force You into a body; now You choose one for Yourself?

New tears flowed down her face, but these were of wonder.

She’d long ago decided that children were not for her; an unstable life on the run didn’t lend itself well to the raising of children. She had become pregnant while in Runeham, when she and Logan had been close, but she’d miscarried and nearly bled to death. The incident had frightened her; in her fear of conceiving and losing another child she had closed herself to Logan and their relationship had faltered soon after. She was content in those circumstances to remain childless. Time had passed and so had her opportunity, or so she thought. But now, everything was different. She was free from her past; with Fox dead, this time for sure, she no longer had that burden on her shoulders. She was made welcome here at Larken as long as she wanted, after all, she was, in a convoluted fashion, Arduval’s niece. It all painted a secure picture for her future. But her past pregnancy leaped to the front of her mind. Just a week ago, so ready to die and join Garoben; now she was afraid. A little part of him still lived within her, Rayne wanted to see it through, to meet that person they had made. But the idea of how close to death she had come hit her hard; she gave a little gasp and made her unsteady way into the chair to sit, cradling the almost invisible life in her belly. Fear of losing this baby made her heart hammer and she felt faint. She leaned forward and let her head dangle, folding around the unborn child like an oyster protects its pearl, shielding it from harm. She didn’t hear the door open behind her through the blood roaring through her ears but she felt a warm hand on her bare back.

“Raynie?”

She lifted her tear-streaked face to see Kaelian bent over her. She stood abruptly, turning to him. The motion was too sudden; she felt the room spin and the light dimmed. He called out, she heard the door open and rushing footsteps. She was picked up and deposited back in bed without ceremony.

Her head still swam but she was able to hear through the buzzing and the dark fog began to lift. Keresh was bent over her, lifting her eyelids with one hand while the other lay at her throat, to feel her pulse or throttle her if she moved, she wasn’t sure which. His gaze was fierce and livid. He thumbed her other eyelid back and she was able to roll her eyes back down from where they threatened to bury themselves in the back of her skull and look at him. She turned her head away from his hand and muttered, “I’m okay.”

Keresh muttered back, grumbling angry words in his native tongue as he drew the sheet up over her bare body. She tried to sit up again but another set of hands from the other side of the bed prevented her moving. Kaelian sat there, his hands on her shoulders, pressing her into the mattress. She twitched in his grasp, irritated and looked back at Keresh.

“If you’re going to swear at me, at least do it where I can understand.”

He switched languages in midsentence without missing a beat, all the while gathering pouches and bowls scattered about her bedside. “—stubborn, pigheaded, single-minded, selfish bitch!”

Her brows drew together in anger, her emotions changing gears so abruptly that it surprised her, though she only found one of his admonitions objectionable. “Selfish?!”

Keresh dropped the mess into a heap on a nearby table and turned to her swiftly, as much the warrior now as she had ever seen him during battle. His dark eyes flickered a warning.

“Yes, selfish! We lost you over and over—you were dead! And now, instead of healing and taking care of yourself and resting, which you need badly, you’re up and around the room with no one at all to catch you when you fall. Because fall you will. You’re so weak and thin I can almost see through you and to the child you carry.”

Anger drained away and was replaced by shock. “You knew?”

Keresh snorted and shook his head. “Of course I knew. Don’t be stupid.” She felt the grip on her shoulders loosen and Kaelian smiled.

“Why else would you have such a ‘nervous stomach’? All the times you couldn’t eat, then were suddenly ravenous in the wee hours?”

“You too?” Rayne was amazed. Everyone around her apparently knew more than she had herself. She sighed, getting a grip on her panic. “Did anyone think to tell me?”

Keresh smiled. “You knew; you just didn’t want to admit it to yourself yet. Just like Runeham.”

At mention of that time, she paled. Keresh leaned down in concern and she met his eyes, stricken. He had been with her through that dark time as well. “I remember what happened. I’m so afraid that it’ll happen again.” Her eyes welled, emotions careening wildly. “Maybe that would be best. What am I going to do alone with a baby?” She fought the surging tide of tears.

“Don’t say that!” Kaelian admonished. Rayne was drawn into his arms whether she wanted to be or not and he held her. “You won’t be alone.”

Another crack in her heart was smoothed and began to scab over, trying to repair itself. She gave in, letting the fear and grief well up and out again. A warm hand stroked her head and she turned to see Keresh sitting beside her on the bed. His gaze was steady and calming. Kaelian kissed her forehead and loosened his grip; Keresh’s arms slid around her as Kaelian’s had, holding her in support and love.

“I will be there, as long as you want me.”

Words failed her; she was reduced to nodding and burying her face in his chest, feeling the warmth of him soothe her frozen heart.

Last edited by author: Sun July 25, 2010 19:09:02   Edited 1 time.
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[> [> Oh! Oh! OH! >>> -- Page, 23:55:10 07/30/10 Fri

A baby!!! Rayne's going to have Garoben's baby! OMG, I so freakin' love that!

That moment when she finally lets herself know what's been going on with her body is so wonderful! Thank heavens she dragged that chair over to the mirror with her.

And I really like how everyone already knew she was pregnant and never said anything. When DD announced her first pregnancy, her grandmother and aunt both said, "I knew you were."

After all Rayne's been through, it's so great to have her realize her enemy is truly dead and gone, she has a wonderful place she can stay and raise her child, the best friends to help her, and that there's a piece of Garoben left in the world.

I love it!!

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[> [> [> Thank you! -- debikm, 12:07:11 07/31/10 Sat

>A baby!!! Rayne's going to have Garoben's baby! OMG,
>I so freakin' love that!

It was happening one way or another, but now that Garoben's dead, it that much sweeter that Rayne has a bit of him still. Funny, when I wrote the end the first time and Garoben had lived, the child born was a son. When I decided to continue to torture Rayne with misery, the baby became a girl. Dunno why...
>
>That moment when she finally lets herself know what's
>been going on with her body is so wonderful! Thank
>heavens she dragged that chair over to the mirror with
>her.
>
>And I really like how everyone already knew she was
>pregnant and never said anything. When DD announced
>her first pregnancy, her grandmother and aunt both
>said, "I knew you were."

I think Keresh's swearing at her was my favorite. ANd that 'selfish' was the only part of it she found offensive to her...
>
>After all Rayne's been through, it's so great to have
>her realize her enemy is truly dead and gone, she has
>a wonderful place she can stay and raise her child,
>the best friends to help her, and that there's a piece
>of Garoben left in the world.

I think the reworking of the end is going to happen soon and I'll post as I go. Duke Arduval helps her so much, almost taking a fatherly role, despite their past differences.
>
>I love it!!


Thanks! I want to finish this story so badly, btu there's so much to tell... it may never happen.

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[> Re: Lost and Found -- Page2, 09:32:23 07/26/10 Mon

Wow.. sniff sniff. Both those stories are so beautiful. Great writing ladies. Tender and sweet. I'm such a sucker for romance. :-) Can't wait to read more from both stories.

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[> FOUND: A little something I cooked up the other night - not sure if it will become a full story yet - still working on plot and whether I want to stay in 1st person. Holds promise and is on back-burner while I write horror. >>> -- Page2, 12:24:18 07/26/10 Mon

Intro: SEREN'S ANGEL


I’m sure when he was born his eyes were gray, but at age two, they were what they should be, a crystalline blue. A shade so light that one felt compelled to look, to see if the irises held any color, then one became mesmerized, almost hypnotized by the stare. But not me, I knew what it meant and was immune. His parents called him James. A simple, common enough name but there was nothing simple or common about him. Of course, they didn’t know that, but I did. I was sent here to find him.

My quest is simple: spin a dream and catch a soul. Dreams are easy; sometimes even fun. Catching souls isn’t. I’ll admit it, I hate it. But, it comes with who I am. My name is Angel. I’ve been around for thousands of years, watching, spinning and catching. I’m a dream weaver and a soul catcher. To young James, I’ll inevitably be his friend or his worst nightmare. Of course he could surprise me and be different than the others. I hope he is. I want to believe.

The mystics assure me James is different. He’s the one. That this is Seren. The one I have been looking for. They are sure of it. I have my doubts. Seren has been elusive to find. I’ve spun way too many dreams then captured the souls only to find they were middler’s or worse, one of the no-goods. Always impossible to know until the last dream is up and you’re catching the soul. Middler’s are spirits that are learning but haven’t truly progressed. No-goods, well they are what their name implies, spirits who are no-good, evil if you will.

The great battle is coming. Seren needs to come home and train the new souls. Long ago he shined brightly amongst us, a pure heart, enlightened mind with powers that reigned supreme but his spirit desired something else. He wanted to become human and learn. I knew Seren well – too well – I begged him not to leave. The trials and tribulations of being human would change him, I said. He claimed he’d be back even more enlightened. I’ve been searching for his soul ever since.

Now, I sit in this dingy restaurant looking through the eyes of a deceased middler, and watch young James. The signs are there: the trademark eyes, the crescent moon birthmark on the hand, even the way he holds himself. Two-year old human’s babble, make messes, shriek, run and giggle amongst other things. They do not sit complacently in a high chair and people watch.

Were the mystics right? After all these years, could it really be Seren? I observed the child while I slurped my coffee. It could be him. The aura surrounding James was quite bright. I wonder if the child can see me through these middler’s eyes? If it was Seren and he remembered her then recognition should show in his magnificent eyes. There’s only one way to know for sure, I thought as I scooted out of the booth and stood.

The family sat at the back of the restaurant, near the bathroom. If I could maneuver past this one waitress, the child should see me for sure. Drawing near, the child turned and cast a glance at me. Hmmm, his aura colors changed when he noticed me. James is smiling. The skin in the corners of his eyes and lips crinkle as I stand near. Kneeling down I peer into the depths of his crystal eyes; it’s him, the mystics were right. Would his auld power work? Could he still speak with his mind, I wondered. “Seren is that you?”

Two events occurred then. One, the child put his hands to his ears and began to shriek; and two, the wraiths were here. I felt the extreme drop in temperature and their evil filth permeated the room. If they were here, that could only mean one thing - James and I were in trouble.

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[> [> Re: FOUND: A little something I cooked up the other night - not sure if it will become a full story yet - still working on plot and whether I want to stay in 1st person. Holds promise and is on back-burner while I write horror. >>> -- Debi, 13:02:45 07/26/10 Mon

>Intro: SEREN'S ANGEL
>
>
>I’m sure when he was born his eyes were gray, but at
>age two, they were what they should be, a crystalline
>blue. A shade so light that one felt compelled to
>look, to see if the irises held any color, then one
>became mesmerized, almost hypnotized by the stare.
>But not me, I knew what it meant and was immune. His
>parents called him James. A simple, common enough
>name but there was nothing simple or common about him.
> Of course, they didn’t know that, but I did. I was
>sent here to find him.
>
>My quest is simple: spin a dream and catch a soul.
>Dreams are easy; sometimes even fun. Catching souls
>isn’t. I’ll admit it, I hate it. But, it comes with
>who I am. My name is Angel. I’ve been around for
>thousands of years, watching, spinning and catching.
>I’m a dream weaver and a soul catcher. To young
>James, I’ll inevitably be his friend or his worst
>nightmare. Of course he could surprise me and be
>different than the others. I hope he is. I want to
>believe.
>
>The mystics assure me James is different. He’s the
>one. That this is Seren. The one I have been looking
>for. They are sure of it. I have my doubts. Seren
>has been elusive to find. I’ve spun way too many
>dreams then captured the souls only to find they were
>middler’s or worse, one of the no-goods. Always
>impossible to know until the last dream is up and
>you’re catching the soul. Middler’s are spirits that
>are learning but haven’t truly progressed. No-goods,
>well they are what their name implies, spirits who are
>no-good, evil if you will.
>
>The great battle is coming. Seren needs to come home
>and train the new souls. Long ago he shined brightly
>amongst us, a pure heart, enlightened mind with powers
>that reigned supreme but his spirit desired something
>else. He wanted to become human and learn. I knew
>Seren well – too well – I begged him not to leave.
>The trials and tribulations of being human would
>change him, I said. He claimed he’d be back even
>more enlightened. I’ve been searching for his soul
>ever since.
>
>Now, I sit in this dingy restaurant looking through
>the eyes of a deceased middler, and watch young James.
> The signs are there: the trademark eyes, the crescent
>moon birthmark on the hand, even the way he holds
>himself. Two-year old human’s babble, make messes,
>shriek, run and giggle amongst other things. They do
>not sit complacently in a high chair and people watch.
>
>
>Were the mystics right? After all these years, could
>it really be Seren? I observed the child while I
>slurped my coffee. It could be him. The aura
>surrounding James was quite bright. I wonder if the
>child can see me through these middler’s eyes? If it
>was Seren and he remembered her then recognition
>should show in his magnificent eyes. There’s only one
>way to know for sure, I thought as I scooted out of
>the booth and stood.
>
>The family sat at the back of the restaurant, near the
>bathroom. If I could maneuver past this one waitress,
>the child should see me for sure. Drawing near, the
>child turned and cast a glance at me. Hmmm, his aura
>colors changed when he noticed me. James is smiling.
>The skin in the corners of his eyes and lips crinkle
>as I stand near. Kneeling down I peer into the depths
>of his crystal eyes; it’s him, the mystics were right.
> Would his auld power work? Could he still speak
>with his mind, I wondered. “Seren is that you?”
>
>Two events occurred then. One, the child put his hands
>to his ears and began to shriek; and two, the wraiths
>were here. I felt the extreme drop in temperature
>and their evil filth permeated the room. If they were
>here, that could only mean one thing - James and I
>were in trouble.

I like this premise, a LOT. I'm a big fan of the Apocalyptic, end-of-times stories and this has an interesting twist. The only thing I would suggest doing differently is when you describe the middlers and the no-goods, to include the description as you name them rather than go back. Maybe something like "I’ve spun way too many
>dreams then captured the souls only to find they were
>middler’s, spirits that
>are learning but haven’t truly progressed, or worse, one of the no-goods, evil if you will." The image of this baby with the old eyes is delightfully creepy and I really think you're on to something here. Can't wait for more!

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[> [> Holy Mary, Mother of God! Steph, this is fantastic! >>> -- Page, 23:57:53 07/30/10 Fri

All I can say is MORE! MORE! MORE! This drew me in from the very first line, and when I got to the end I was like, "NO! She can't stop there!"

Btw, I love the child's name. (But then, you knew I would, right?)

So, post more, okay?

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[> [> A weird child and a soul catcher, I love it >>>> -- Fi, 11:35:58 08/09/10 Mon

Opening with the eyes - original and intriguing. The soul catcher, the aura, the unchildlike behaviour - gimme more!

I did find the 3rd and 4th paragraph dragged me out of the scene, though. We already know that there is something unusual about the child and the watcher, so this is information that the reader doesn't need right now. Plus you mention the mystics in the 6th paragraph, so this makes it a bit repetitive. Hook 'em and keep 'em wondering a bit longer. I'd suggest ending the 2nd paragraph with "I want to believe that this is Seren, the one I have been looking for." And then delete the 3rd and 4th paragraphs. As usual, this is your story and you can ignore this advice if it doesn't fit.

In some cases, you've misused apostrophes to show a plural rather than a possesive. For example, "Middler’s are spirits" should be "Middlers are spirits", unless it's a "middler's something". Same with "Two-year old human’s babble".

Hope this helps. Did I mention that I love those crystal eyes?

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