Monday Mayhem – Hello, old friend.
Containment! I’m deviating from my usual post to tell you that I am writing Containment!
While I’m not even half way done with the first draft, it seems to be flowing this time. Keep your fingers crossed for me. I’d cross mine, but then I couldn’t type.
It’s the last week of NaNoWriMo and I’m a day or so behind. That means I’ll be sprinting for the finish. But I’m just so damn happy that this book seems to be happening. *knocks wood* Want a taste?
“I love you. You know I love you….”
Shel stared at his mouth transfixed. She’d kissed that mouth thousands of times. Even when he was stuffed up and snotty, when he had god-awful coffee breath, or worse, onions for lunch, she’d still kissed him. He was hers. At least, she thought he was. Until this afternoon, she thought his lopsided smile worked only for her. That was why she’d listened and believed when he said he loved her.
She’d obviously been a fool.
“I swear, it meant nothing.”
He wagged his head, trying to back up his platitudes with exaggerated denial, but she couldn’t tear her eyes from his mouth. It wouldn’t stop moving, no matter how much she wished it would.
“I never meant for this to happen.”
She watched as each word formed, fascinated by the exaggerated push and pull of lips, teeth, and tongue. Each denial wrapped around a moment and stretched it into a lifetime. Her lifetime. The lifetime she vowed to spend with him.
“I’d take it all back if I could.”
His vehemence slowed the instant replay of their life together to a snail’s crawl, warping and distorting the soundtrack of good times and bad until they were indistinguishable from one another. The sluggishness of her reactions pissed her off. The life they led had little space for slow-mo sequences. She was a mother. A wife. A friend. An artist. A woman in control. At least, she thought she was until about five minutes ago.
Shel blinked at last. She should have slapped him by now. If she had any balls at all, she’d have hauled off and punched him square in that lying, cheating mouth. She could push him out the door and tell him to never come back.
Or better yet, she’d bolt.
A sizzle of illicit thrill chased down her spine. She could. She should take off and leave him here to deal with the mess he’d made of their lives. He would deal with the endless rounds of appointments and disappointments. He could wait and wonder and question every choice he’d made over the last ten years of his life.
Yes, this book is going there. Containment will deal with the sticky wicket of infidelity. That’s why it’s been such a bear to tackle. So, yeah. There it is.
Remember, this is wholly unedited first draft. Things can change radically between now and final revisions. It’s also a good bet there will be markedly fewer commas later.
Keep praying to the writing gods for me! 🙂
Happy Thanksgiving to my American friends!