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Date Posted: 08:29:10 11/07/09 Sat
Author: Debi
Subject: Good Morning, writing junkies!
This week's homework post is brought to you by the letter B and the number 50,000! Or 5 works too...
Since I'm barely conscious and have just paid bills, let's run with that.
Idea Numero Uno: Someone is paying bills. Is it a struggle and causes heart palpitations, or did they win the lotto and they're paying off their mortgage in one big lump? How does the bill paying affect that character's significant other, their mom, their neighbor's cat? Let's find out, shall we? ;-)
Everyone's Fantasy: No, I'm not talking about ravishing some gorgeous man, though that ranks pretty high in my book. What I'm talking about is this: One day, driving to work, you (or your character) suddenly decide to bypass your place of employment and keep on going. I quiring minds want to know why. Where are you going? What are you going to do when you get there? Just how much trouble are you going to be in, when/if you come back?
"I never had any doubts about my abilities. I knew I could write. I just had to figure out how to eat while doing this."
-- Cormac McCarthy
I have no doubts about our abilities either. So let's write with wild abandon, the rest will follow.
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Hot diggity dog! I wrote with abandon! I've no idea who this character is, but I like her. She may just have to have her own book one of these days... >>>> -- 
Page, 16:49:44 11/07/09 Sat
Excerpt from working title Rhett
©2009 by Juli Morgan
Posted for purposes of critique only, and does not constitute publication
Flashing yellow lights gave warning of the school zone ahead, and Rhett eased up on the accelerator. Even if the lights hadn’t been activated, she would have slowed anyway. After all, she drove this same bloomin’ route to work every day, and was well aware of the traffic snarl in this area every morning and afternoon. As she crested the small hill at the back of the school’s property, she kept an eye on the school bus heading toward her. Just as she had suspected, the driver completely disregarded her nondescript white Dynasty, and made the left turn into the school, cutting Rhett off. She sighed in resignation, and hit the brakes, coming to a stop, and praying no one would come over the hill and rear-end her. Though she knew the bus driver couldn’t see her, she directed a malevolent glare in that direction, angered by the way the children’s safety was put in danger. She made a note of the number on the bus, but knew deep down she wouldn’t call the school district to report the driver. She never did things like that, much as she knew she should.
Progress down the two-lane road was slow, as cars halted to let glum children out, and stopped at the crosswalk to let teachers make their way from the faculty parking lot across the road. Rhett looked at her wristwatch – the clock on the Dynasty’s dash was broken – and sighed again. Even with the school traffic, she was going to be early for work again. No one ever had to worry about Rhett Davis being late for anything. One of her pet peeves was people who made a habit of showing up at least ten minutes late, whether it be a family dinner or a job. As irritated as tardiness made her, she was pretty sure her arriving early for everything was just as annoying to others. Todd had always bemoaned the fact that they were the first guests at any gathering, insisting it was rude to the hostess. Rhett had always responded it wasn’t nearly as rude as being late, and he’d never argued with her. After twenty-five years of marriage, he’d learned which battles to pick.
She finally cleared the school zone, and joined the long line of vehicles waiting to turn left onto the highway. The rhythmic click-clunk of the turn signal was the only sound in the car, since the radio had crapped out at the same time as the clock. Or maybe they were connected; Rhett had no idea. Todd had been the family mechanic, keeping the aging Dynasty and his monster of a truck running well beyond the time they should have become scrap metal. Since his death ten months ago, the car had declined at an alarming rate. Her neighbor, Sam Harris, had told her just two days ago he thought there might be an electrical problem, his voice indicating it was a dire situation. Rhett knew she should trade it in before it was completely worthless, but she didn’t need a car payment. Even if she threw in Todd’s truck, she figured she couldn’t get more than a couple of thousand in trade-in for both. A new car, even if it was a pre-owned model, would take a substantial bite out of her paycheck.
Todd’s life insurance provided a nice buffer if she handled it right. A separate policy with the mortgage company had paid off the house, and one of the benefits of Todd’s job with the city had been a burial policy that had covered the funeral expenses. The life insurance money would take care of taxes, insurance, and other expenses for quite some time, as long as she didn’t spend any of it for anything else. Her paycheck as a receptionist for Wrought Iron Specialties covered Rhett’s day to day living expenses, but wouldn’t stretch to cover another vehicle.
A scowl covered Rhett’s face at the thought of her job. God, she hated it! She thought with longing of the years she’d spent as traffic manager for the local cable television company. It had been a stressful job, but it was a piece of cake compared to what she had now. It had been a dumb idea to quit the cable company after Todd died, but she wanted to make her life as stress free as possible, and being a receptionist had sounded like a good deal. Rhett hadn’t been at Wrought Iron a full day before she realized the definition of receptionist had done a one-eighty since she’d last worked as one, back in high school. Instead of answering phones and directing calls, and making the occasional visitor comfortable until whoever they’d come to see was free, she found herself typing, filing and making travel plans for the sixteen executives in the office, as well as being responsible for accounts receivable. Damn it all, that’s not what a receptionist did! Those were supposed to be the duties of trained secretaries, and financial type people, not the woman who answered the phone and made coffee. By the end of her first week, she’d been close to emotional collapse, worse than the days after Todd had died. Her daughter, Lilith, had been pragmatic.
“Mom, just quit if you hate it that much. There’s no reason for you to work anyway, right?”
Well, thank God Lilith’s degree wasn’t in financial planning with that attitude. Rhett was proud of her twenty-four year old daughter, and pleased she was able to do what she loved, teaching eighth-grade science in one of Fort Worth’s private academies. But Lilith just didn’t seem to understand her mother’s situation. She seemed to think, as so many others did, that Rhett would live comfortably on Todd’s insurance, a lady of leisure with no worries in her head. No one had any idea of the reality of the financial uncertainty of being a relatively young widow. Not that they cared; Rhett’s circle of friends seemed to have just faded away after Todd’s death, no longer having anything in common with her. Screw ‘em. She didn’t need them anyway. Much.
After negotiating the turn onto the highway without getting creamed by an eighteen-wheeler or a teenager late for class, Rhett saw the squat, flat building that housed the offices of Wrought Iron Specialties coming up on her right. A few ostentatious luxury cars were already in the parking lot, and she knew she’d get irritated looks since she hadn’t gotten there at the crack of dawn to prepare coffee. What an unpleasant bunch of arrogant assholes she worked with.
The car got closer and closer to the building, but instead of slowing, it speeded up. Rhett didn’t even stop to question what she was doing as she depressed the accelerator, and shot by the office at ten miles over the posted speed limit. All she knew was that she was tired of solitary lunches, unending work she wasn’t qualified for, the condescension of her co-workers, and the view of the parking lot from the window next to her desk, a view that was more and more frequently blurred by tears. She’d be damned if she’d ever set foot in there again.
Exhilaration shot through her, making her fingertips tingle. Hell, this felt good! In fact, she hadn’t felt like this since before the horrible accident that had taken Todd’s life, and left his best friend in a wheelchair. With a sense of wonder, Rhett realized the woman she had been before tragedy struck was still alive and kicking, and ready to start living again.
Maybe Lilith was right; after all, the kid had a college education. Maybe she could live on that insurance money for a while. After all, it’s not like she’d never find any other job ever again. Shoot, she was still a beautiful woman, maybe not as beautiful as the knocked-up homecoming queen Todd had married while they were still in high school, but still a looker. If nothing else, she could move to Dallas and become a high-priced call girl.
Shocked at her thoughts, Rhett laughed aloud. Well, and why not? She was only forty-two years old, and still had a huge chunk of her life ahead of her, wide open and waiting for her to grab it, and shape it into what she wanted. Yes! She pumped her fist in the air, and smiled. The rear-view mirror showed the Wrought Iron offices growing smaller and smaller, and Rhett rolled down the window, letting the early March breeze whip through her hair. She didn’t know where she was going, but her hair would look tousled and sexy when she got there.
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I love this woman! -- Debi, 18:44:48 11/07/09 Sat
Rhett is my kind of lady. The evolution of her thoughts as she drove to work was great, laying the backstory and setting as part of the scene, not as backstory and scene-setting ;-) Rhett deserves her own novel and I'd love to read it.
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Now I get the backstory right! *G* >>>> -- Page, 12:59:00 11/08/09 Sun
I like Rhett, too, and it was very cathartic to have a story just flow like that without a lot of thought. It made me realize I've been thinking Carey On to death (one of my failings in anything I do!), and that it's affecting the story in a negative way. I hope I can use what I learned in writing about Rhett to let Jay and Katie's story write itself without picking it to pieces. If I can do that, I really can finish it, since it's so near completion.
I've jotted down some things about Rhett, including how she got that name, for use after I finish Carey On. I'm excited about delving into her world, and I want to thank you for this HW! Who knew there was another book in this overloaded head of mine? *G*
Hugs,
Page
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new stories everywhere -- dea, 10:27:57 11/10/09 Tue
it's exciting! about Rhett, i was a little shocked with her age. i mean, hearing her thoughts, i imagined her in her early fifties. turns out she's younger than me! that made me wonder, how old do i really sound, were someone to read my thoughts? hmmm... i like the background and i can completely identify with the "pedal to the metal" escape.
you guys are writing very special women, real women. i have a new story too, but once again it's a bloke talking... go figure.
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I love new stuff! >>> -- Page, 23:07:28 11/13/09 Fri
I'm so glad Rhett sounded older to you than she is! Though this story is very new to me, and I don't have all the particulars worked out, I do know she's been stuck in a rut for some time, and when her husband died, she retreated even further into it. She took a big step away from all that by bailing on her job, and is about to rediscover life, realizing she's not an old lady yet, and vows to stop living like one. I can't wait to write more about her, but it will have to wait until I've completed Carey On. I'm determined to finish that one before I start any others.
Glad you liked!
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