I meant to post a blog entry on NaNo Day 1 (for those of you who don't have a clue what I'm talking about, read my previous entry; and it was November 1). But I didn't. Then I told myself I was gonna post on Day 2 (why do I keep typing Daddy instead of Day?? o.0 ). So now it is Day 3 (theeere we go.
Somebody hashed out 10,000+ words on the first day. How do you do that?! As I updated my own word count to 1,667, I kept telling myself that that person was one that writes novels for a living. (That, or they're just one of those stinkin' over achievers that like to show us other people up. "Us other people" being those of us that see that the predetermined daily goal for everyone is 1,667 words, and we are going to stick to what the authorities say with their statistics. -_- )
It is now Day 5. I got caught blogging when I should have been writing my novel. (Why did I have to tell people I was doing this?) So this is me procrastinating the writing process, yet again. (I hate scene changes. -_- ) Oh! Here's a picture of my title-cover:
I used a legit picture of Lula's eye that my friend Kathleen and I took forever ago, back when I was working at Quail Haven in California. The only problem is that paint used the actual photo for this. . .so *tears* I don't have this photo except as the title-cover anymore. :'( It was a very sad day.
. . .And that ^ was obviously typed a couple of weeks ago. My bad. I underestimated just how much enthusiasm this novel thing was going to drain from me sometimes. -_- But hey, I'm over halfway! Woo hoo!! (27,790 words, to be exact.) Though I've been meeting the "daily quota" every day, I'm definitely not typing the "show off" 5,000-a-day so much anymore. Yesterday (or maybe it was the day before) was kind of like that. But that was only because I took a break from one point in my novel and began writing a *more critical part. (*Note: I am one who has discovered that every part in a story is critical; it either gives you insight into something that is going to happen, or has happened, and/or is an insight into one of the characters. Every sentence in a story fully develops the story; you almost could say it is the story itself. You couldn't have a story without sentences. . . .And I'm rambling.) My novel is about what I've gone through (thus far) with Joey Joey and what I've learned along the way. And every time I think, "Gosh, who would want to read about that??" I remind myself of Susan Richards (one of my major author-idols).
And of how many people have told me that I need to get this story down on paper so that they can read it for themselves and share it more easily. That helps, too.
So, as a kind of "sneak peek" (not that anybody reads my blog. I mean, seriously), I'll post a small [UNEDITED] section of my soon-to-be novel, "See No Evil" :
Jessica Cal laughed out loud as she raised her body into an arch over the bay’s black mane. They effortlessly soared over the jump and landed with a slight thud on the other side. With a huge grin on her face, she sat back into the saddle, letting her body melt into the horse’s rocking motion as he cantered gracefully through the corner of the arena. He arched his silky brown neck and shook his head, snorting in pleasure. Jess let him canter a few more paces and then slowed him to a smooth trot. Gradually she moved him back to down to a walk, giving him generous pats on the neck and shoulders. “Yes, Winnie! Thank you! That was the best!” she gasped. Her smile only grew bigger, as the large bay pulled his head slightly down and chewed the bit, asking for permission to keep going. Applause sounded from the short line of riders that were standing along the arena fence railing. Beverly, Jess’s horse-riding instructor was grinning and clapping as well. “That was a beautiful ride, Jess!” she gushed. “I might even go so far to say that I think it might have been your best ever.” Jessica laughed again, throwing her head back and thoroughly enjoying the moment of victory. She’d never been able to run a course with that many jumps before without messing up somehow. It was the happiest moment of her life. With her eyes closed and her face tilted up toward the overcast sky, she kept reliving the moments of pure grace as she and Winston seemed to float around the arena. All the other riders in the group lesson, even her trainer, seemed to disappear as Jess and Winston seemed to be the only inhabitants of the earth in that one perfect ride. She felt a drop of water splash onto her cheekbone. Another landed on her forehead and trickled down past her ear. She opened her eyes and smiled up at the dark clouds as the rain began to increase in intensity. Not even rain could dampen this day; oddly enough, it seemed to only make it better. “We’d better leave it at that and head on in,” Beverly told her students. Slowly the riders nudged their mounts into a walk and rode in single-file out of the arena entrance, toward the cross-tie area of the horse farm. Jessica and Winston rode last. Jess didn’t want the last few moments to end. She made up in her mind right then and there that she wanted to grow up to work with jumpers. But she felt a wrenching sensation in her stomach as she remembered that today was her last day at Twin Oaks. During the course of the next few days, her family was making the trek to move back to the real place she called home: their seventeen wooded acres in a small town in Georgia. She had thrown such a fit about moving to California in the first place, Jess remembered regretfully. But so many things had changed since then. She hated to leave the horses and her job as a working student here at Twin Oaks, but she knew she didn’t have any choice. She was only fourteen; it wasn’t like she could just stay here while the rest of her family moved back east. Tears pricked at the back of her eyes as she thought about saying good-bye to the horses. Especially Lula. She was the little Morgan lesson-horse that Jess had come to adore. Jess knew that Lula loved her just as much in return. When Jess worked at Twin Oaks on Saturdays for extra riding lessons, she would usually take her lunch break at the pony’s stall. Lula had given her the impression that horses ate anything and everything, often consuming Jess’s peanut-butter and jelly sandwich as well as her pretzels and chocolate pudding! But Jess didn’t mind sharing. Over time, she and the pony had formed a strong bond. Lula would do almost anything for Jessica; and Jessica would do almost anything for the old bay pony. Lula had taught Jess how to ride bareback--even to jump with no saddle! She had also dumped her numerous times; once, even into a full water trough right in front of Beverly during a lesson! As Jessica stripped the English all-purpose saddle from Winston’s back, she thought about all the other horses she’d miss here at Twin Oaks. She would miss old Nimby, the quirky chestnut who’d taught her how to use her hand, seat, and leg-aids properly. She would miss her nearly-perfect rides on the little pinto mare, Mable. Mable seemed to do anything that you asked of her; except when she was in heat, and then she could be the very devil to ride. Devils. Yes, Jess would even miss her wild and often unpleasant rides on Spirit, who everybody agreed to be the devil incarnate. The grey horse spooked at everything, in sight or not; always seeming to have a master-plan for turning your riding lesson into the worst one ever--that is, until the next time. Jessica couldn’t understand at the time why her trainers kept making her ride the spirited gelding. But she knew now that she would never have developed her gentle and understanding temperament with horses (and even people) without those crazy rides. And then there was Winston who had just given her the best ride of her life. The long hot-dog-like gelding had gently taught her that her mount could only be as confident as she was.
Jess gave Winnie a kiss on his velvety brown muzzle. He perked his ears and tossed his head a little as she unclipped the chains from either side of his leather halter and led him down the aisle to put him away in his comfy stall. It was pouring rain now, but it didn’t seem to bother the big bay. He walked along beside her, his ears pricked toward her as she sighed deeply. The rain ran down her back, soaking her thin pink polo shirt. Her auburn-brown hair grew darker and became stringy and plastered itself to her neck and face. As she ran the bolt on Winston’s stall door home, locking the horse comfortably inside, she tried to remember if she had heard anything about any English barns giving riding lessons near her home in Georgia. She couldn’t really remember, but she didn’t think she had. She sighed heavily again as she stared at the latch. Even though she wanted to become a professional horse trainer and rider, would she have to wait until she was older and out on her own? At the sound of her sigh, Winston came over, slung his head over the door and nuzzled her gently, whoofing his sweet-smelling alfalfa breath on her neck. She threw her arms around his wet neck and hugged him tight. “Good-bye, Winnie,” she whispered, her face buried in his stringy black mane. Then she turned and slowly made her way back to the tack room to clean his tack, the rain pouring down and thunder rumbling in the distance.
There ya go. Thanks for reading. Hope you decide to come back later, preferably on December 1, so that I can brag to you about how I am a real live author. ^.^