Prompt: When I opened my mouth to sing

When I opened my mouth to sing she held up her pointer finger to hush me.
     "I always have the chorus."
     I held in a growl and sad down as Julia stood straighter, jutted out her chin and went on to belt out a tune that would make my deaf grandmother bolt out o her recliner, dropping the remote and shutting off Wheel of Fortune. I tried to imagine my grandmother's horse like voice to drown out Julia's sad attempt. After her part she sad softly in the mushroom chair and nodded graciously in my direction. With a heavy breath, I approached the center and allowed my vocal chords to bathe the room. I closed my eyes to concentrate, and to avoid Julia's critical gaze. When I finished I bowed slightly to the roaring audience and took a seat.
     "Olivia," came a voice from backstage. "It's time for bed, sweetie."
      I blinked. My stuffed animals fell silent. Julia, my doll, sat still, my mother's words bringing the room back into focus.
     "Okay, but one more song?" I asked. Mama smiled and shut the door, the lights dimming as I prepared for my encore.

cutting a sentence won't make you bleed

     As you know I've been working on a book the past 18 months. This has kept my creative juices flowing in a distinct direction and I have not written anything "new" in a while. I've done prompts here and there with the EPIC writer's group I and my friend/editor/co-conspirator, Patty, created a year and a half ago. But as far as new material, my brain has been lacking. My mind is focused almost entirely on the world in my book. 

December 31st, 2012 my resolution was to complete the first draft of a novel by December 31st, 2013. I met that deadline with mere hours to spare and a string of sanity left. My fiance bore witness to the tears that accompanied the last sentence of my book. The final tally was 349 pages and 114 thousand words. This was much longer than it should have been. Earlier in the year (2013) I did research to define the average word total a young adult novel should be. (Publishers judge a book by words not by pages). While I found a report that gave me an average of 100k words for the best selling YA novels of the past decade, I failed to take in to a count that these were already established authors. 

     Not a peon like me who has yet to sell a novel.

     Publishers will most likely not want to risk an expensive publishing on a newbie who can't guarantee sales.

     Like me.

     After taking a month break from my book this past January, I dug in and began cutting. I tried this only days after finishing but it was as painful as if attempting to sever my own limb. I was too emotionally attached. 

     Word of advice: give yourself plenty of time to cut the umbilical cord before sending your child into the world.

     The new goal is to get as close to 90k words as possible. After five months of rigorous editing I've managed to get down to 95k words. And I'm not finished.

     My fiance jokes every time I tell him my new word total, "are you writing a book or deleting one?" It's part of the process, I tell him. Every word I erase, every sentence I move or re-imagine makes my story more precise and clear.

     Currently I am working on my fifth run through of the manuscript. Each time I look for something different. One might think (and I certainly did feel this way in January) that if I found a mistake that I was a terrible writer. But I've since realized that it is quite the contrary. When I find something to revise, I am bettering my work. Each delete is an opportunity to improve the quality of my writing.

     As I keep reminding myself, Everything stinks until it's finished.

     So when my book ends up 20k+ words shorter than my original draft I will delight in the fact I am 20k words closer to a clearer delivery of my story.

     No one wants to read in 20 pages what they could get in 10.

     That is where I am right now. I am working on my last revision before I hand it over to my trusty editor, Patty. It's scary, sure, but like my book, I'm a work in progress as a writer and I want to constantly improve my craft.

     Hopefully in the end, it will all be worth it.

     So keep calm and write on!

Curiosity Part Twenty One

A moment later I was in my car driving away.  It was extremely difficult not to run the red light and then even more so not to floor it when the green appeared.  All this time I was working for some new evil and I had no clue.  Deep down it felt like a game I was playing and when it turned out to be real….

            What was I supposed to do now?  The jungles of Peru did sound awfully inviting but I knew I couldn’t go.  I didn’t make nearly enough money from this job to afford the plane ticket there and my mother might miss me.  I passed light after light and saw countless people on the streets and in their cars.  My home awaited me, but even its safety and warm bed was not enough to shake the uneasy feeling I had.  I knew.  I knew something that others didn’t and for some reason I walked away with it.  These people I passed were not fortunate enough to know that an evil was lurking among them waiting to rise.

            I could, as Kent hinted, live in ignorance claiming plausible deniability, but it wouldn’t be true.  When the next day came and I didn’t show up for work, they would know.  Would they search me out?  I felt very strongly that they would.  Was my security worth more that those of the hundreds of nameless people I passed every day?

            No.  I pulled into my driveway but continued to sit in my car.  Maybe I wasn’t strong, or special or even very bright, but I did have something others didn’t.  I had knowledge.  This was it.  I knew what I had to do.  I would stop these guys.  I didn’t know how I would do it or even if it was possible, but I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t try. 

            I laughed out loud as my mind ran wild with pictures of superheroes and then ended with me.  Heroes are born of necessity and they all start somewhere.  Maybe now I could get my yellow coat.

            The End

Curiosity Part Twenty

The sun was fading and with it so was my sense of security.  This man was psychotic.  He really believed that he was doing good work.  I decided I would get as much information as I could before I left.  I would then change my name and move to the deepest darkest jungles in Peru.  The natives there would accept me and make me their own and I would never need to think about this crazy man and his ideas for world domination again.  All I needed to do was learn Spanish….

            “So, how did you come to work for the company?”  I asked casually. 

            “Same as you, I found it in a want ad.  They were looking for an idealistic individual interested in public relations for an up and coming organization.  I jumped on it and got the job.  Once they told me their mission statement I was all for it.”

            I worked with all my might to sound as interested as possible.  “How do you find funding?”

            At this he shrugged.  “It’s hard to find grants in favor of our revolutionary ideas, so we get them by whatever means necessary.”  He must have realized how that sounded because his eyes widened.  “I mean, we eventually convince those with the means to donate to our cause.”

            He must have meant to say they steal it.  “So, why the letter?”

            “Oh!”  he smiled now.  “That wasn’t my idea.  Nate wasn’t very pleased with your, he called it, ‘unconventional happiness’ and he wished to deter you.  I just thought it was funny.”  

            I didn’t.  My brain was telling me it was time to wrap things up, but I still had a couple more questions before I bid this man goodbye forever.

            “So, now that I’m in the circle, what kind of role will I play?”  Costumes design for your super villains?  I thought bitterly.

            “I’ll have to get back to you.”  He looked pleased.  He thought he had recruited another but he was wrong.

            “Okay, one more question,” I asked simply, taking a deep breath.

            “Shoot,” he said happily.

            “What do you call yourselves?”

            His smile turned and became something else that sent chills down my spine.

            “Now that would ruin the surprise, wouldn’t it?”

Curiosity Part Nineteen

 “I was afraid you would ask that.”  He looked up into the cloudless sky.  “But, I did arrange this little meeting so I guess it’s time I give you something, whether it’s to your liking or not.”

            My good common sense was telling me to high tail it to my car, but as always, my curiosity won.  I sat there, quietly, tempting fate.

            “We equip the select and reinforce their endeavors to establish a new order by which we can benefit.”  His words sounded rehearsed and he looked very pleased after saying them.  I, on the other hand, was not.

            “In English, perhaps?”  I prodded, still not sure where this was going.

            His smile faded a tad but he went on to say, “Each of our clients has a unique vision but all with a common goal.  We support that goal whole heartily.  Unfortunately, not all of them know how to make their visions come alive.  That’s where we come in.”  As his enthusiasm grew so did my understanding.

            “And what’s the goal?”  I managed.

            “Complete and total freedom for those who are able enough to obtain it.”

            “And for those who aren’t?”

            “They will be dealt with.” 

Dealt with?  My insides were crawling.  I was reminded strongly of some evil character in a movie.  Kent was smiling now but he wasn’t looking at me.  His attention was now on the people walking by.

            “So, Kent,” I said as normally as possible.  “Why did you decide to tell me all of this?”

            His eyes shot to me.  “Like I said, I like you.  All the others were boring and plain.  You’re different.  When things finally kick into motion I want you to be right there with us, embarking on a new world, free of the morons who bogged us all down.”

            I cleared my throat.  “What about those who try to resist?”

            “If they know what’s good for them, they won’t.  And if they don’t know what’s good for them then they shouldn’t be around anyway.”

            I laughed nervously, “Sounds like some kind of super villain alliance or something.”

            He wasn’t laughing but instead looked more thoughtful. “I prefer visionary.  The term ‘villain’ is offensive in my opinion.”

Curiosity Part Eighteen

“Secrecy is our business but it’s not our only business.  Does that help?”

            “No,” I said quietly, shaking my head slightly.

            He looked around then scooted closer to me.  I froze.

            “Okay.”  He seemed to be searching desperately for the right words.  I wished I could help him find them because the tension was killing me.

            “You’re different,” were the words he chose and were no more helpful than silence.  “I just don’t want….”

            “What is it?”  I said suddenly and he blinked.

            “The same thing to happen to you,” he finished. 

            “And what is that?”

            His confidence appeared to be dwindling with every word spoken.

            “I don’t know.  That’s the thing.  I want you to stick around.”

            Confusion was welling up inside me and I feared I might explode on him if he wasn’t straight with me soon.  “You have got to be more clear,” I whispered.  “What is it you do there?”

            He nodded resolutely then said, “I, myself, am head of public relations.  We are a growing organization, if you will.”

            Was he serious?  “Why have a public relations manager for a building with no name?”

            This guy could not make up his mind and he was starting to get on my nerves, his beating around the bush.  He looked around and lowered his voice again.

            “I know you opened that box.”

            My eyes widened but I held my own.  “Oh?”

            “And I know you’ve been asking around about us.  I know a lot and there’s a very good reason why you don’t and if you knew any better you’d want it to stay that way.”

            I gulped.  “And why’s that?”

            “Plausible deniability,”

            I waited.

            “Sometimes what you don’t know can’t hurt you even if you’re staring it right in the face.  That’s a very good thing in your case.”

            A horrible thought crossed my mind and I hesitated to voice it.  “And. . . this business, it is good, right?”

            He seemed to ponder this question and took a little too much time on it, in my opinion.

Curiosity Part Seventeen

“Shannon, glad you could make it.”  His voice was cool and so devoid of any hint of malice that I literally laughed out loud from nervousness. 

            He smiled.  “I bet you have a lot of questions.”  He motioned to a little bench a few yards from us and we both sat down.  I made sure to keep a good couple of feet away from him on the bench despite his easy going disposition.

            His smile faded slightly but it remained present on his face and I couldn’t manage to speak.  Here it was, the moment I’d been waiting for and I couldn’t say anything.  He waited patiently and then I exploded.

            “What makes you different?  Why does everyone there hate me?  What’s the deal with the note, the camera, the mic, the secrecy, the game that you all play?  What’s the point?”  My voice was a little higher and less controlled than I would have liked it to be and when I finished his smiled had gone.

            “Yes,” he said.  “That is a lot.”

            I stared at him.  His smart grey suit and slick dark hair helped paint the picture that he had information and his kind face made me feel that whatever he said would be the truth.  I waited for the answers he had promised. 

            He sighed and stared hard at me, then leaned back on the bench.  This sudden change in behavior caused what little sense of calm I had to dart off like a runaway cat.

            “What’s wrong?”  I asked sharply.

            He turned in his seat and almost seemed to deflate.

            His next words might have been, “The world is ending and our building is a rocket ship heading to Mars to save the human race,” for all sense it made to me.

            Instead he uttered plainly, “Listen, I like you, but you’re probably not going to like what I’m about to tell you.”

            I was floored and he still hadn’t even told me anything-yet.