I passed 13K words tonight. The writing is going well. I’m seeing the shape of the story now, and I’m having fun.
I probably shouldn’t (many writers advised against it) but I’m going to share a scene from my work in progress. Just a little bit that gives the flavor of what I’m working on, presented without context.
Feel free to let me know what you think; you can reach me through the social medias listed on my About Me page. Or wait for this weekend’s Community Post and share your feedback. I’d love to hear what you think!
Excerpt below the cut.
[Nighttime. Exterior: Ms. America’s, a strip club in close-in Southeast Portland.]
Belle, in street clothes, dragged her suitcase through the club, head down, walking with purpose, making no eye contact, but she had a slight smile and a gleam in her eye. She gave the bouncers the good word on Alex, hugged Alex, and Alex helped her throw her things in the backseat.
Once in the car, Alex asked, “Hotcake House again?”
“Sure! I was on the move the whole night. I’m starving!”
“What’s this about a favor? I just want to say up front, whatever it is, I’m in. I owe you, over and over again.”
“Well that’s not very suspenseful. I’m supposed to make you wait until we’re eating, drag out the tension, and then you’re supposed to give it lots of consideration before finally, reluctantly, agreeing. Where’s your sense of drama?”
“I don’t have one anymore. Not since at least 2016. It’s a crazy world and life has entirely too much drama already.” He grabbed her hand. “We’re friends. We help each other out.”
“Aw, you’re going to make me all teary-eyed.” That got a chuckle out of both of them. “We have been through a lot together. Ever wonder what might have happened if things had turned out differently?”
“Yes. I think about that all the time. I’m a successful Congressman, the nazis are back under a rock where they belong, and… and so many other things are better.”
“Right. Instead, you’ve been hiding from the world, possibly haunted by a ghost, and I’m still dancing and married to a crusader who’s trying to plug a cracked dam with her finger. Metaphorically.”
“You don’t regret still dancing, do you? You’re working on your degree.”
“I’ve been in school for longer than you’ve known me. It feels like one step forward and two steps backward. I don’t know why I’m so resistant to finishing it and taking the next step. It’s not money. It’s obviously not talent or skill.”
“Obviously.”
“So there’s something else. You’re right, everyone’s right. The world’s askew. It’s off its axis. This is exactly the dystopic cyberpunk future we were promised. Things feel… apocalyptic.”
“Agreed.” If she only knew… Alex wanted to say something about his potential eviction. Why didn’t he?
“So. Let’s do something about it.”
“Sure. Let’s do it! We can change the world!”
“Do not mock me, Ford. I’m serious. We thought we could make a difference before. Why not now?”
“I’m not running for Congress again. I am done beating my head against that wall.”
“Not that. I’m talking about something less… establishment.”
Alex pulled the car into a parking spot in front of the diner, turned off the engine, turned in his seat to face her. “Are we planning a heist?”
“No! I mean… maybe?” She looked giddy. “Is it still a heist if it’s perfectly legal, though?”
“More of a caper, then.” Alex nodded, then exited the car. Belle cackled and followed him into the diner.