Hair Dirty, Must Get Home to Wash It
But I'm stuck in Jersey for a little while longer, in this coffee/ice cream/bakery shop in a strip mall; a place that plays non-stop fifties music just this side of too loud. It's okay though, because it's closer to Dan's yoga studio, and I got my 750 words done this morning. Am suddenly working on this story about an introvert named Hazel. Isn't that a great, under-used for good reason name? Anyway, it's strange how you can start writing about something and then, if your write like me and just want to get words on a page, you find that there are other pieces to the story that you didn't plan out. Like, for instance, I started with Hazel having this unrequited crush on an attractive guy from work, and she's a little strange, so instead of trying to talk to him, she follows him home to find out where he lives. The next day, she calls out sick and goes back to his house and rings the bell. An old man answers (her crush's grandpa). She pretends she needs to use his land line, and then they start talking and she helps him with this 1,000 word hunting puzzle he's working on, and so on. Today, I had her start writing a letter to this guy from work (Jacob, the most popular boy's name in America for a bunch of years running now), and she starts telling him how she's one of a set of triplets, etc., etc. None of this may amount to anything, and, in fact, it might all be trash. But I still like the discovery part of writing.
|This is where I am.|