I have to convince my computer that it can use the aircard and the aircard that it can use the computer. I was supposed to do that last night, but it had a battery that needed to charge and I started that process too late.
Plus Sam and I have been enjoying some of the last of our pre-Christmas time together. I work my butt off for Pier 1 this week (our holiday hours are out of control), and then he leaves for Oklahoma. Sometime after that we get to hang out. We even have a whole day off together!
In lieu of real posting I am going to include the teaser to "Don't Clown Around With Love" with the disclaimer that NONE of it is real. It is a fantastical representation based loosely on some facts about the lives of friends of mine. It all started when Jamie (one of said friends) would say something and I would joke about it and she would squeal thus exponentially increasing the likelihood that I would continue to tease her about it and the teasing would get more and more ridiculous ending up with this wild stab at silly trashy romance novel. Here we go. It is awesomely bad.
Don’t Clown Around With Love
By Heather
Chapter I.
Janey’s Arrival
“Well, Marilyn Monroe, I guess this is it,” Janey said to her fluffy gray cat as she pulled her car up in front of the non-descript graystone. “We sure are a long way from Idaho.” The trip took almost three days through mountains and deserts and forests and plains and ended up here on the northwest side of Chicago in a neighborhood that was Starbucks and gentrification-free. It may not be very trendy, but Avondale fit her budget.
Janey got out of the car and looked around. The car was filled with all of her possessions- her furniture had come with her roommate and fellow newly-christened college graduate the month before in a U-Haul. The apartment on the second floor was inexpensive, clean, and roomy. “What more can a girl ask for?” she quipped to Marilyn Monroe as she picked up his cage, her blond ponytail bouncing with each eager yet apprehensive step. “That’s a good boy,” she cooed. (The name Marilyn Monroe was the result of an unfortunate kittenhood where no one had managed to notice he was, in fact, not she.) “We’ll go inside as soon as I find the landlord.”
And that is when she saw him, coming from the backyard, his forehead glistening with sweat on the bright, late summer afternoon. His biceps bulging as he carried a large box to the curb. Her throat caught – there was something about him, something primitive that caused her stomach to stir…or was it her stomach?
“Hi,” he said, extending his hand, “you must be Janey. I’m Pete.”
Where's Beebo?! There she is!!!
11 years ago
5 comments:
That was not awesomely bad, that was awesomely awesome and entertaining. I think it's written well and colorfully. In this little bit, there was more than enough to keep me interested. I honestly want to read what happens next.
Don't mind me; I took too many creative writing classes.
No, I don't mind thank you. I hope it is reasonably well-written, but I am also trying to spoof the genre, so I am angling for the cliche whenever possible. I would love feedback, always.
I love it. I would read this novel, providing it continues to be as fabulous as the beginning is.
I've never read the genre, so I couldn't say if it is spoofing or not.
Well right now, it is this and a list of scenes in the back of my planner. And I think I just may write a bunch of the good scenes first and then cobble them together into a novel. It make Jamie make whimpering noises. Also may make Paul think I am more of a stalker than he already seems to think I am. But this is funny so who cares!
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