Showing posts with label Fiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fiction. Show all posts

Monday, September 24, 2012

In case you were wondering

I'm writing a novel! And no this is not something new that I just jumped into. I've been working on this particular piece on and off since I was seventeen. (That's almost four years if you were counting) I don't know if I'll ever publish it but I do know that I'm going to finish it. For me. This is something I need to see through to the end. I admit that there are days when I want to scrap the whole project. There is this little voice in my head that tells me that no one would care. That no one will want to hear the story of these two amazing, frustrating, funny girls that are with me every minute of every day. But that's okay.

Even if it sits on my computer for the rest of my life it WILL be done. My words mean everything to me. I'm a writer, a (sporadic) blogger, an aspiring chef/ physician... a hypocritical health nut (I have horrible eating habits). I have a lot going on and sometimes I feel like I just keep heaping more onto myself. Often I feel like I'm drowning but I'll figure it out. I have things to prove...to the little girl I was. To the (no-where-near) adult that I'm turning into. If you're out there...if you're interested...I'm willing to share


Sunday, October 23, 2011

Just a little something

Tis a work in progress but I like it. I thought it'd be nice to share with you

Out of body experiences had always seemed like a foreign concept to me. Obviously these things didn't really happen. It was just a way to explain away the shock or pain or whatever the person feeling. I have always thought this. Until now. At this very moment I am making tea. Except, I'm not. I'm watching myself make tea for my mom.  I'm watching myself all of a sudden become the parent. I hand her the tea and stroke her hair. Strange. I don't even remember coming home.

The first real memory I have of my father was him carrying me out of a meat locker. I was about six when it happened. The details are a little hazy, but I remember him. Just when I had run out of deities to pray to and accepted that perhaps my life was meant to be short he appeared. Bursting through the thick metal door like Superman. He walked over to corner where I'd been huddled for what seemed like forever and plucked me off the floor. I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my face in his chest. My father has always smelled  like coffee, cigarettes and sea water. To this day it is still my favorite smell on the planet.

Green has always been Antonio DeSanti's best color. Which is why he's wearing it now. Why we all are.  The sash on the waist of my mother's dress is lime. My grandmother's hat is moss. My toes are neon and they even glow in the dark. My mother doesn't get it. But he would. He's the one who keeps me grounded.
The thunderstorm feels appropriate. It fits my mother's loud wails and my silent rage. With each boom of thunder I hear her sob "Tony". In the lightning that comes right on its heels I see him. I see red.

Sleep has never been my friend. My bitter enemy taunts me now with flashes of a scene that my heart begs to forget. A scene that feeds my mind. The wheels are turning faster and faster. He has to know I'm coming after him. Salvatierra will join Superman in the dirt.