Category Archives: Milestones

Happy 2 Month Anniversary!

So much has happened since the last anniversary post! Actually, having this occasion for reflection makes the recent past seem rather heavily weighted to the negative. Recall that career as a field service engineer I mentioned? An engineer I remain, however I no longer collect a paycheck in that capacity. The recession finally visited the nuclear industry, and my strained relationship with management strung the noose.

So, good news! I’m a starving artist!…

I am rearranging my goals for this manuscript, which will be reflected in the countdown soon. Since writing is now my primary occupation, I figure I should get a little more aggressive in my aspirations.

Cumulative Word Count Progress: 12,091! 25,570 in total. Amusingly, I came to the conclusion after weaving the two independent stories that make up the manuscript that there’s more work that needs to be done than originally anticipated. Therefore, I’m bumping my goal word count goal to a tentative 40,000.

Excerpt: Early diary entry from main character, Seneca, as a human.

April 15

Dear Diary,

I spend too much time these days  thinking how very remote and practically imaginary our connection to other people is: how individual each experience of life truly is.
I asked myself, “How do you describe how it is to be you? What words would you use to describe how it feels to be in your skin? The state of being my person is:….”

I thought of the sound and the caress of each automatic breath:  the rhythmic billowing and contracting under my chest and ribs. I feel the thrum of my heart against my ribs and the hot pulse of the tributary in my neck; the touch of my tongue to my teeth; the featherweight of  bangs against my cheek; the texture of my fingerprints. I test the network of muscles which respond in my back and legs, restful but dependable, as I go through the motions of being this animal. I note the live, warm scent of my skin mingling with the floral notes of my shampoo. I observe the flutter veil of my eyelashes snapping the images of my world into singular moments, and the imagined industry in my brain weaving those images into movie memories.

But all these things are terrestrial. Merely tactile. If I had to describe the integral sense of being me, the word would be: alone.

And the only thing more sad, final, and horrifying, is thinking I might not be alone, but pregnant: host: mother. To something unwanted.

Yes, dear,dirty, distraught me. I think we are pregnant.
..
…!!!!
!Seneca
682 calories.

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Happy One Month!

At risk of disgusting everyone with the ridiculous effervescence typical of a new relationship…I say, Happy One Month Anniversary Amusinghabit!!!

Just be glad I didn’t do a one-week Anniversary celebration. Haters.

To honor the occasion, I wanted to report the word count advance thus far, and I’ll share an excerpt from my manuscript! Are you shaking with excitement? Too much caffeine? That’s ok, me too. Well, I might actually be shaking from all the sugar in my succulent Panera hot chocolate. No matter!

Cumulative Word Count Progress: 5,368! That’s almost a 40% increase!! (For your reference, I began this work in Aug 2010)

Excerpt: Introducing Anne, a love interest for Eli, a main character.

Perspective: Primary main character, Eli’s new guardian angel, taking the shape of a young lioness

Setting: Eli’s living room at his new address

“Your new accommodations are to your liking, Mr. Marsh?” the woman queries from the other side of the couch.

I watch as Eli nods and grins, looking down at his knees. He’s allowing the teasing tones of that voice to flow over the nape of his neck and down his back.

I can’t see the woman from my vantage point, but two beings on my plane accompany her–both looking weary and blistered. They are perched on the back of the couch, one at each side.

One, a once-handsome fox, lifts his ragged head to observe me. The left side of his face has been savaged. There’s a jagged crevice from eye to nose that contrasts the command and poise in what’s left of his countenance. I bow my head in greeting to our guest’s highest Guardian.

The other is a cheetah–tired but comparatively resplendent. She’s small but her presence is ravishing and red. She’s a demon and seduction is in every line of her body. Even the scars interrupting the predator’s-pattern coat only amplify her intensity.

Both angel and demon scare me. Their bodies are tense with awareness and I wonder what  tiny infraction will snap the tenuous peace between them. I want to hide, or rather, my cub’s body is scooting away to hide behind a chair leg. I try to comport myself around the obvious fear in my reaction.

I can see the woman from this vantage point now. She’s slender and strong. Her shoulders are poised at a careless slant but  her back  is curved tight yet supple, like a bow.  The thin  material of her black dress kisses her in every curve as she breathes. Her neck is long, artful and naked. Dark eyes flash to accompany an inviting  smile framed with crimson lips. Long delicate fingers are draped  over the breast of a bordeaux  glass whose stem presses into her thigh.  She tosses her head  in a laugh which sends  her red curls flying to cast flitting shadows on the pale blades of her shoulders.

I am intoxicated. There’s no beauty quite like this, I’m sure of it.
Pleasure  to meet you,  Anne.