I have so much I can write tonight, but I don’t want to fill up the entire page with useles rant when I have an even more useless 2 chapters of my novel I’m writing for the National Novel Writing Month.

And let me tell you what a load of crap I’ve turned my novel in to in just on night. Wait, you can actually read it yourself if you scroll down the page just a bit. It’s unbelievable. I just don’t think I was on my game tonight. Maybe I didn’t have the right music or something. Maybe I was drained from writing my essay for Contemporary British Literature, which was actually going very good. I have a good feeling about this paper. The writing process was flowing. It was flowing better than it has all semester long. For that, I thank the gods. But, for some reason, bad karma for something I’ve done I guess, the writing process halted. Then, I proceeded to drag myself, kicking and screaming I might add, through 1,200 or so words. Whatever I done, I wish the gods would tell me, so I can avoid it later. I can’t have them screwing with my writing process.

Basically, I was trying to go with the first-person POV with several different characters. Yeah, weird, huh? But, I wanted to do something different, and I’m pretty sure I’ve thrown the whole thing to the bottom of some deep lake with 200 lbs. of cement wrapped to it. I don’t know if I’ll keep Chapters 2 & 3 right now. I’ll just have to wake up tomorrow and start the day again. See where my mind takes me.

So, I hope you enjoy. Or tell me to do something with this. Tell me to keep it going. Tell me it’s interesting. Tell me it’s the worst piece of fiction you’ve ever read. Just tell me something. Something? Anything? And please remember, this was all typed in notepad, so don’t tear me a new one for improper use of grammar, sentence structure, and redundancy.

Chapter 2
There Goes Lucy In The Sky With Her Diamonds

“There goes Lucy in the sky with her diamonds…her sweet diamonds…”

I was crying uncontrollably. I couldn’t get past it.

“God?”

If God exists.

“Please help me. I promise…” and there it goes. The promise. The promise a man makes when he’s going through the most intense moment of his life. A million times over. It’s over and done now though. I can go on about life, forget all about the Sacrament, the Wedding Bells, the Sunshine, the Barrels, that Heavenly Blue (oh so Heavenly as it was), the Mind Detergent, and the last few Bart Simpsons. I can forget about that. It’s over now.

The recovery, that was what was worse. Destiny wants to screw with me, huh? Fuckin’ A! I gotta pay the bills. Yeah, pay the bills. Not only is Destiny doing its fair share of toying around, but the big man wants to throw fuel on the fire. Well, ef him too!

What’s this?

Apparently I had knocked over the table and along with it a seven-day old pile of mail. But, there was a an envelope that stuck out. An envelope addressed from Zadie Moretti-Jones. What the Hell is she sending me mail for?

Hello Graduating Class of 2002,

As you all know, each year Jude Taylor and I set up the class reunion. We are nearing our 30th year in this celebration. Only one more to go! This year, in a special remembrance of one of our last high school parties, (you all still remember those days don’t you?), we will be meeting at the log cabin. I have attached a map for those of you who do not remember how to get there. The reunion will be held on the first weekend in November, just after the high school’s football game. I hope to see you all soon, and may you have a safe trip.

Forever Your Friend And Classmate,
Zadie Moretti-Jones

“Fuckin’ A! It’s November?” I must’ve still been coming off of the high. “Wait. No. It will be November in a few weeks.”

Where has the time gone? What am I doing with my life? What the Hell is that? Fuck! It’s the baby.

“Jill!”

“Jill! Don’t make me holler ‘n there again! Come an’ get the fuckin’ baby! He’s drivin’ me crazy!”

Damn woman can’t do nothin’ round here. I think I’m losing my mind. I need to treat my wife better. I need to call my daughters sometime. They’re getting so old now. Twenty-one and nineteen. Where the fuck has time gone? Why the fuck hasn’t she got that baby!

“Fuckin’ A Jill! Get the damn baby! It won’t stop cryin’!” Where the Hell is she?

I listened quietly to see if I could hear her footsteps coming from the bedroom. Nothing. Maybe she’s in the bedroom. Why won’t that baby stop crying? I need to get up. My head is spinning. I must be tired.

“Jill, will you get the damn baby!”

“Dad! Dad!” I look up to see my beautiful Tina, the youngest. God, she’s grown to be so beautiful. Just like her mom. “It’s alright. You were just having one of your flashbacks. It’ll all be okay.” She was crying. I could tell that she hurt when I got like this.

“Where’s Jill? Where’s the baby?” I looked around frantically for Jill and Robert. “Where are they?”

“Dad, you have to calm down and remember. Jill and Robert died 26 years ago.”

I fell to the floor. I couldn’t bare it. My boy. My wife. Gone. Dead.

Lucy in the sky with her diamonds. She’s so heavenly. So beautiful.

Chapter 3
The Weblog Of Emily Rosenbaum

Dear readers of this useless memory on the internet,

Dad’s always going on and on about his good ol’ days. Back when he ruled the high school. Back when he was “Timmy-the-man!” Whatever, he gets on my nerves so bad. I don’t think I can stand the thought of him saying one more thing about football either. Who cares if he scored 4 touchdowns in whatever game it was? I don’t care if he scored a hundred touchdowns. His high school days are over. It’s my turn now.

Oh, by the way, I’m in the 9th-grade now. I know I haven’t wrote since before school began, but so much has been going on. Jimmy Alcott asked me out, and I’ve been talking on the phone with him almost every night. So, I haven’t had time to devote to my favorite hobby. Telling you my deepest and darkest secrets. I see I have a lot of comments here, and NO, I don’t have any nude pictures for you, mohead87 and longjohnnybgood2004. What are you like some 40 year old stalker, who sits at his computer all night long waiting for teenage girls to show you their naked bodies? So Sorry Pal. You’ll just have to stalk some other 14 year old girls. You won’t get nothing from me.

Anyways, like I was saying. Dad’s all “I did this and I did that” and I’m like, whatever. He’s even worse this time of the year. He gets to go to his class reunion. It’s so stupid. Why do they have a class reunion every year? Don’t most people only do that, like, after 10 years, and then they leave each other alone. Ugh! I just get tired of hearing about it. And Mom just sits there and lets him go on and agrees with everything he says. You are my only release from this torture.

And I’d like to thank KerryLuvsDanny, sweetangeliclove, and deborahrunsfast for your comments. They have meant so much to me over the last couple of years. Thank you for helping me deal with the ever-growing stress the “Timinator” brings on. And now, it’s full-blown insanity! He’s a few fries short of a Happy Meal, if you know what I mean.

Okay, that’s enough about my stupid Dad and his stupid high school glory. Let me tell you about Jimmy. He’s so sweet! And he does everything for me. He brought me a flower the other day for no reason at all. He told me he just wanted to show me how much he cared for me. I’m just ticked off that we can’t really do anything together. We have to sneak off together at recess just to kiss. My Dad won’t let me go out on a date with him. There I go again, talking about my Dad. But he just screws up everything in my life. First off, I have to hear, every day, about how “cool” he was in high school. Then, he won’t even let me enjoy my high school years. It’s like he doesn’t want anybody to have a better time than he had. At least he gets his stupid reunion. And that’s one thing I’m actually happy about this year. Why? Because Jimmy and I are going to spend the whole night together! Our parents never come back from those reunions until Sunday. That gives us a whole 2 days together! We just have to get around a few problems. One, being my older sister, Dee. Which probably won’t be a problem, since she’ll be out doing God knows what anyways. And Jimmy has to find somebody to pick me up, since neither one us has got a car yet. Or a driver’s license for that matter.

It’s going to be so special! Oh, I think that’s my Dad coming upstairs. I have to get in bed! I’ll blog again soon. I promise.

Posted on October 12, 2030 @ 12:33 am
by Emily Rosenbaum

Chapter 2 & 3 Stats:
Date: November 2, 2005
Start Time: 11:37 pm
Music: Counting Crows
Word Count: 1,278
End Time: 1:01 pm