Murder Mystery

Sorry it's been a while since I've posted anything! Life kind of blew up for me this past month. You all know about my Writing Excuses Retreat win, but that very same week my hubby was offered a job that he accepted. Which means this month was spent packing and cleaning so that we could put our house on the market so that we can move out of state. I haven't had any time to get on the computer, much less write...mostly. Anyway, long story short, the house is for sale and it looks good enough I don't have to spend EVERY free second making it look better. :)

I have written four flash pieces this past month that I haven't posted, so here's the first one. It was for Flash! Friday over at Rebekah Postupak's blog. It's a great flash fiction site if you're looking to jump in and join us! The prompts change each week, so you never know what's coming. In addition to the Friday prompt, she also has a critique piece on one of the non-winning entries and an interview with the overall winner that week. Super fun!

This piece was written for Feb 15th's competition. That week was a 150-400 word murder mystery story based on your choice of both a weapon and location.





 I chose the poisoned wine and the staircase. It came in at 398 words. Enjoy! :)

By the way, this was one of my first attempts at 3rd person omniscient viewpoint...I'm not sure it came out right, but it was fun! It was way longer and I had to cut a lot out to fit the word count...

The poison took time to increase in potency to the point where it would kill. That made it untraceable. It was placed in the wine and left to age. It would be opened tonight.

They were drinking out of custom goblets. The glass cup was ensconced within intricate iron filigree. Each was unique: a dragon, a fox, a ram, a bull, a stag, a snake, and an eagle.

The goblets were left alone in the kitchen, full and awaiting service, for too long.  It needed only a moment to place the poison. The deed was done.

The girl, unknowing, carried the tray into the dining room, placed it on the buffet, curtsied, and withdrew. The conversation stopped as each eyed the goblets with knowing looks.

“Splendid!” Gordon stood and waved his arms toward the drinks, “Grab a goblet and we shall discuss business particulars upstairs.”

His six guests filed over and picked one seemingly at random.

“Look here!” exclaimed Tidus, “I do believe this is a bull! Beautiful work.”

The rest raised their goblets to see the animal on their own. Michael said in disgust, “I’ll not have a stag! Give me the bull!” And he yanked the goblet out of Tidus’ hand and replaced it with the stag.

Marcus laughed, “I don’t know how I ended up with the snake, but that seems more befitting your character, Caius.” He held it out with a quirk of his eyebrow.

Caius smirked, inclined his head, and exchanged his own ram.

“And if there is anyone quite so cunning as a fox it’s Bartholomew. This cup was made for you.” Peter raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips as he waited to see whether Bartholomew would take it.

Bartholomew squinted his eyes at Peter for a moment before reaching for the fox. He held it up and examined it before handing his own dragon to Peter.

“Oh my!” Peter continued, “And this is a dragon! Surely this belongs to the master of the house!” He turned toward Gordon and smiled.

Gordon eyed his own eagle for a moment before relinquishing it with a small smile and a nod of his head. “Are we all thus arranged?” He didn’t wait for a reply, “To my partners in crime, may we grow stronger together.” They each raised their goblet and drank.

As they all ascended the spiral staircase, Michael fell down dead.

I WON! (The Writing Excuses Scholarship)

I am still speechless. I have tried to compose this blog post all morning, and I am having difficulty finding the words to say.

I first heard of the Writing Excuses “Out of Excuses” writing retreat in the fall when they announced that they had held back a scholarship position. I had to send an essay and up to three pieces of fiction no more than 10,000 words. You have all read (or at least those of you who have followed my flash fiction this past year) two of the pieces I submitted. One was A Curse or a Blessing, and the other was Nudge. The last was an excerpt of my novel-in-progress. It was a scene nearer to the end (which was just way better writing and required way less editing to make readable...). 8,134 words of my novel actually. Choosing what to send was VERY difficult! With the help of my amazing husband and my wonderful friend, Rebekah Postupak, I narrowed it down. Even 15 minutes before I pushed send I was still deciding.

I had mostly managed to put it out of my mind until yesterday. When I looked at the date I freaked (a bit). I had the Writing Excuses website up all day and refreshed the screen periodically throughout the day. I turned the computer off before I received the email. :( (Of course, I might not have slept last night, had I known...)

Mary Robinette Kowal wrote to me at 9:36 last night. However, I got up early to run this morning and saw that she friended me on facebook!!! That was my first inkling that it could be true. I went for my run before turning on the computer (I know, what was up with that decision??? Well, I really needed to get that run in and I didn't know if I would if I was distracted by the computer. Proud of me? No? Yeah, it was pretty silly because I kept thinking about it during my entire run!) I would like to say I went straight to the computer when I got home, but my youngest wanted some snuggle time and I needed to drink water, so I sat in the chair with her for a bit. It wasn't until my hubby needed me to send him something that I got on the computer. As soon as I thought about getting on the computer, I almost smacked my forehead and ran to the computer. It still wasn't in the realm of believability yet (I'm not sure it is now).

I opened my email (No, I didn't get what my hubby needed first...I had to check this first!), and there was the email that said "Congratulations!..." OH. MY. WORD. I stared, dumbfounded, for a long time. Then I started saying something like, "Oh my gosh! Oh my. Is this real?" over and over again. Hubby looked concerned, then read over my shoulder as I gestured toward the screen. Needless to say, there has been a lot of rejoicing here today. I proceeded to get up and jump up and down and scream. For real. I think I may have been laughing hysterically too. Then I came back to read it again. And again. She asked if I would like to accept the scholarship and I replied, "YES! YES! YES!!!! I accept! THANK YOU! Thank you so much!" ...Yeah...professional. *sigh*

Anyway, I am now officially registered and everything! I'm still shaking (I don't remember when I've had this much adrenaline running though my system for this long...). Thank you all for your encouragement and prayers! I am so blessed and honored and amazed and thankful for this opportunity. My writing is going to get SO MUCH BETTER!!!! Yay! :)

Oh, and here's the official announcement!

 

 

Writing, Editing Update

It’s been a while since my last update, so I thought I’d share a little about what’s been going on since Thanksgiving when I finished the first draft of my novel. First, let me say, that editing is a long, torturous experience that feels like plucking my fingernails off one by one… Okay, so maybe it’s not that bad. I am having trouble with it though.

 

(photo credit: www.heatherwebb.net)

Those who have followed the updates about the book since the beginning know that I started writing it in third person and switched to first person about 20K words in. Well, I have decided (with some advice from a writer friend – THANKS COURTNEY!) to just cut all that off and see if I can’t start a little past that. That was hard. There are SEVERAL scenes and moments and just plain necessary information tucked into those words that I have to either put in somewhere else or explain a different way or, well, leave out. (And even as I say that, I know that most of it needed to get chopped…so, yeah, it’s a good move) It’s hard for me to know what is necessary and what is just superfluous. I had to go through a period of questioning and mourning and whatnot. I’m finished with that now. I started editing, in earnest, a week or two ago: meaning, cutting and trimming and just plain making my scenes better one page at a time (by the way, my flash fiction experience has been extremely helpful with this process).

As it stands now, I have approximately 200 pages (after the ones I’ve cut or edited already) left to edit. At one page a day, that’s another six months! Hahaha! I hope I can move faster than that. My goal is to edit three pages a day (for all you non-math-types, that’s one and a half months to finish). Even as I type this, that sounds absurdly pathetic…but I think it’s realistic. Add to that another period of time (month-ish???) to write any scenes that need to be added and edit those, and – worst case scenario – I’ll have a completed draft ready to send to beta readers by May.

While I’m editing this novel, I will continue to write new content for one or several projects I have in my brain. That goal is so ephemeral you can walk right through it, I know. I have SIX ideas for new books competing in my head right now. Yes, six. Six! …And I love all of them! I’m having difficulty making a decision on any of them, or rather, I’m having difficulty saying no to any of them. J So, during this time of getting-to-know-my-editing-brain, I will play around with each of them and see which comes out in the lead. (One is the one I thought I would write for NaNo this past year – the one I can’t categorize – YA of some sort with no fantasy, one is a YA Sci-fi, one is a middle grade fantasy, one is a YA urban-esque fantasy, one is a children’s picture book, and one is a…um…probably a chapter book serial-type-thing?) As you can see, I’m all over the place. They’re just going to duke it out over the next couple of months and see which one comes out on top. …I’ll keep you posted! J

The Gargoyle

My first ever entry into the Flash!Friday micro fiction contest! (It's week 8 already!)This is run (in part or whole - I'm not really sure) by my fabulous friend Rebekah Postupak (@postupak)! It's very hard for me to write SO STINKIN' SHORT, but I gave it my best (and chopped like crazy!). The rules asked for a 75 word story based on the following picture...give or take 5 words... I made it in 78. SCORE! :)

“I can see all of Paris from here!” Jean grasped the gargoyle and leaned forward.

“Jean, that death grip you have on his horn might make him angry.”

 “He’s just stone, Anton” Jean rapped his knuckles on the gargoyle’s head, “Falling is much more terrifying than he is!”

“THINK AGAIN.” The gargoyle turned.

Jean was devoured within minutes.

“I REALLY HATE IT WHEN THEY GRAB MY HORN. IT’S THE ONLY ONE I HAVE LEFT.”

“I did warn him.”

Sickly

I couldn't help but join the 55 word challenge this week. I LOVE the picture! :)

His mother was the trendy sort. If the hat was good enough for celebrities, it was good enough for him. Miniature elephants? They were all the rage. The picture was the last they took together. Both were sickly. Now his mom wears pink, even when it’s not October, and cries as she puts it on.

No Kiss Blogfest

Hey all! I came across this No Kiss Blogfest just today, celebrating all the near kisses in the world. The idea just captured me and I wrote this scene today (Yes, today. All of it, today. Meaning: I haven't really edited it much. Sorry. Some of the pacing is not what I want, but that will have to be fixed at another time.) As it's due up by tomorrow and I have a date with the hubby tonight, yeah, this will have to do! :) The scene is technically in my newest WIP (work in progress - for those of you non-writerly peeps) so I wasn't sure I wanted to post it, but then I just couldn't help myself. :) I hope you enjoy! (for those of you interested, the scene came it at 1,390 words)

As I pick up the last discarded cup on the corner table I glance out of the corner of my eye. Jake is cleaning off the coffee table. He’s the only one left. We’re alone. Why was he still here? “Thanks for helping.” I stand and smile at him.

“No problem.” He surveys the room, “You need it. I thought this kind of mess only happened when there was actual drinking involved.”

I purse my lips. I don’t like the implication that he’s been to those parties. Who am I kidding? I know he’s been to those parties, I just don’t want it to be true. Deep breath. Keep it light, “Nope. Kids are slobs with or without alcohol.” I pause and place my hand over my chest and give him my most overly sympathetic face possible with a dash of shock to get the point across, “I’m so sorry! Did you somehow think we were perfect? I’m sure we dashed that preconception tonight. Now you won’t ever want to hang out with us again!” I fake pout.

He gives me that half smile that sends tingles down my spine. How does he do that? He’s all the way across the room! “I don’t know, I suppose I can stand one more gathering…as long as you’re there.”

Um. Did he just say that? I think dumbfounded is the appropriate term for what I am experiencing. Honestly, no words will form. He’s standing there looking perfect and waiting for my reply. I open my mouth to say something, but I have no response to that. He’s not… We’re not… I mean, we’re friends. That’s it. I finally manage a lame, “I usually am,” before I turn to drop the cups into the trash and proceed to the plates on the floor next to the chairs. I can’t hear him. Is he still standing there, or did he start picking up again? I strain my ears, but it’s hard to hear over the beating of my heart doing double time through my veins.

Get a grip! I’m sure it was just harmless flirting. No big deal. I take another deep breath and stand with my arms full, and he’s there – right in front of me. I’m embarrassed that I inhale sharply and jump a little – maybe a lot. He drops his armload into the trash and reaches out to steady me. His hands on my arms do not steady me. Goosebumps spread from point of contact to, well, everywhere. My mouth goes dry and I feel like I can’t get enough oxygen. He’s a plate away from me and looking at me like, well, like he wants to – no, that’s not possible. I must be reading him all wrong.

His eyes go from concerned to soft and he smiles a real smile – one of those that spreads sunshine through my veins and wraps the world in welcome. He lets go of me and takes the plates out of my hands and drops them in the trash. Now there’s nothing in between us. He takes a step forward, “I meant what I said, Brooke.”

He’s not actually touching me, but I have never been more physically aware of anyone in my entire life. It’s like I can feel him through the air. Like sound waves bounce around and you hear them from across the room, he’s giving off some sort of vibration my body is interpreting. I feel like I need to step back so my brain can start working again, but I can’t seem to make my body do what I’m telling it to. “What do you mean?” I manage to whisper. I can’t actually look him in the eyes, but looking at his chest just makes me want to reach out and touch it. I can see his firm muscles underneath the midnight blue t-shirt he’s wearing. It looks soft.

“Look at me.” I shake my head slightly. I’m afraid. He lifts his hand to my chin and gently tilts it so that I have no choice. Sure, I could refuse – I doubt he’d push hard – but my body only seems to want to do what he wants rather than what I am telling it. His finger is soft and warm, but I can feel the guitar callous on his fingertip. Where is the oxygen in this room? And I am now way too warm. My eyes finally succumb to the direction of my head and I find myself looking into his eyes. “That’s better.” His eyes search my face and his thumb starts gently rubbing along my jaw line. Fire and ice simultaneously blossom across my cheek and down my spine.

 I close my eyes to try to get myself under control.

“No. Please. I want to see your eyes.” He leans in and closes the distance between us to a millimeter (or at least that’s how it feels). He cups my face in both his hands, his pinky fingers tingling a particularly sensitive spot just behind my ears.

My mouth opens involuntarily and my eyes fly open at the shock of it.

“Brooke. If I wasn’t clear before, I want to be very clear now. You have hypnotized me. I think about you all the time. Your smile. The crinkle in your eyes when you laugh. The way that piece of hair falls into your face and you impatiently brush it back. Your thoughtfulness – about everything. Your kindness to everyone you meet. The way you like to dance down the hall instead of just walk. Your joy. You are infectious and I want to be near you all the time.”

That’s not something I hear everyday. Okay, I’ve never heard it. Ever. I don’t know what to say. ‘Thank you’ seems trite. “Wow. I’d want to hang out with me to.” Is what I manage to say. Nice.

Jake threw his head back and laughed. I watched his neck muscles contract and that adam’s apple thing moving and I just wanted to lean in and see how it felt against my lips. Whoa. “You see!” He continued, startling me out of the impulse, “You never say what I expect! How can I make this more plain? Go out with me, Brooke. I want you to be my girlfriend.”

Again, that’s never happened to me before either. Well, assuming you don’t count the check yes or no note I had passed to me in social studies in fourth grade. Boys just don’t go around asking me out. I wasn’t prepared. “Um,” is all I manage, which is pretty impressive considering the circumstances. He leans closer and I can feel the heat of his breathing against my face. He smells of peppermint mixed with his musky cologne. It’s intoxicating. I close my eyes and just breathe it in.

“That wasn’t an answer.” I can hear the smile behind his words, let alone feel the movement of his lips just across the void.

“I’m not allowed to date yet,” came out of its own accord. That isn’t what I wanted to say, but it’s true nonetheless.

“Hmmm.” His hand moves from my cheek to cradle the back of my head and the other hand traces fingertips down my neck and arm, sending chills and making my legs feel like jelly, to finally grasp my hand. “I suppose we can wait a couple months to make it official.” He leans in closer and my heart is about to explode out of my chest when the front door opens. We jump apart.

My parents are home. They’re laughing as they come through the door, then their eyes rest on us and they both go silent. They just stand there staring. I must have the most surprised/guilty face ever seen on anyone. I clear my throat, “Welcome home. We were just, um, cleaning up. How was the show?” I smile a frightened little unsure smile and my dad purses his lips and swallows.

“We had a great time.” He looks around now, “Looks like you did to.” He turns back to Jake, “Thanks for your help, but we can take it from here.” He holds the door open for him and raises his eyebrows.

“Yes, Sir.” Jake mumbles as he nods his head. He glances at me for a moment before walking out the door.

Mulligrubs

Hello All! I hope your holidays were absolutely spectacular! I had a wonderful time with family and enjoyed my break! I am jumping back into the flash fiction circuit with a special Tuesday Tales that is up to 500 words long! WooHoo! I LOVE longer wordcounts! :) Anyway, I managed to get in at 499 words with the prompt word of Mulligrubs and the following picture. Enjoy!


Mulligrubs: \MUHL-i-gruhbz\, noun: Ill temper; colic; grumpiness

I watched as Claire relaxed into the water. The way the water caressed her body – was not something I should be thinking about! We were just friends, and I shouldn’t be here – standing three feet from the water. How had she talked me into this?

This wasn’t her fault. She just asked me to go with her to see the tidal pools and watch the tide go out. I just didn’t realize that entailed swimming. My mom was going to kill me, then ground me, then lecture me until sunrise…again.

“Why don’t you join me?” Her voice was so soft and velvety. It had power over me that was dangerous, especially here.

“I can’t.” I intended to speak normally, but my voice caught in my throat and came out a whisper. Why was she making me so nervous? She thought of me like a brother. I knew that.

She peeked at me through her lashes, “Oh come on, Mr. Mulligrubs, you’re not being very fun today. What’s wrong?”

“I’m just not supposed to be here. We should go.” I looked down. I was so embarrassed to have to admit to her that I wasn’t allowed here.

I heard a splash and looked up. She was sitting now – leaning back with her hands behind her. The strappy dress was clinging to every curve and I missed what she was saying. She looked annoyed.

“I’m sorry. I just –” She splashed me. A really good splash too. I was dripping.

“See. Now you have no excuses. You’re already wet.”

“It’s not about being wet…” I lost my voice completely as she stood, dripping and glorious, and walked toward me.

“Triston, don’t you want to come in with me?”

“Of course, but –” Blood was pounding in my ears.

“Your Mom’s not here. She’d never know. I promise not to tell.”

“Oh, she’d know when all hell broke loose.” Now she was confused. “Nevermind. I just can’t.” She’d never believe me about my father. Or the curse. Or his rage at how my mother had tricked him. If he ever got a hold of me…

“It’s okay. I understand.” She turned her sad eyes away from me and started to walk away.

“No! It’s not –”she turned back and tripped on something. I stepped forward and caught her.

I looked down.

Water seeped into my shoe, holding my ankle in a vice-like grip. Don’t panic. I could feel my heart racing. He probably won’t kill me. “Claire. Go. Tell my mom what happened. Tell her I love her…”

“What do you mean? That’s not funny. Just come with me.” She was so beautiful. And smart. And funny. And perfect. I leaned in and kissed her. I’d dreamed of it many times. This was way better. I only stopped when the water swelled around us. I pushed her toward the car, “Go! Don’t look back. Tell her I’m sorry.”

The tidal wave came in fast and engulfed me, dragging me out to sea.