NaNoWriMo 2016 Week #2

Before I get into my post about this awesome week of November where I got lots of writing done …

Politically and nationally it has been a not-so-awesome week.

Those who have followed me from the beginning know that I rarely, if ever, discuss political issues on this blog. However, I do discuss humanitarian issues. And, sadly, this year’s election has worked itself into riots and demonizing the other party (whichever side of the fence you happen to hitch your tent on) and it has become a humanitarian issue.

And so, very briefly, let me say this …

Stop it.

Please.

Things are a mess right now. If you’re not willing to start cleaning it up, at least stop adding to it.

If being in the Army taught me anything, it’s that you don’t have to believe the same thing to get work done. And you don’t have to agree with everything being said around you to deserve and receive respect and dignity.

So please … Stop. If you voice your opinion, do it as respectfully as you want to be treated by the counter point. Lay out your concerns – if you have them – without assuming you know the response to it. Or be sensitive to the concerns of your fellow Americans – if you’re in that camp.

Treat each other with dignity and America really will be great.

Now … National Novel Writing Month 2016!

I ended last night at 19047 words! I am right on track to win this thing and I’m hoping to boost those numbers up this weekend. The story itself is a lot of fun. I’m just now getting into the spooky parts – remember, it’s a ghost story sort of thing – and I’ve discovered some really awesome stuff in there that I’m going to be exploring more deeply.

Which … I should get back to now. So here’s the snippet for this week. To those of you participating in NaNoWriMo … Good luck! Keep going! You’re awesome.

—

They stepped out of the classroom and Brendon waited while Phil locked the door, intending to walk with him to the parking lot. But she was there, her bag packed away, clasping her hands in front of herself with almost as much nervous energy as his uncle.

If someone didn’t lighten up soon they were all going to suffocate, he thought as she walked toward him.

She had that look on her face again, the same one she’d had last night, like she was on a mission and determined to see it through. It made her look a little severe, all things considered, but at least this time she had her hair down. She had long, brownish-blonde hair that hung just passed her shoulders, with enough of a wave to it that it had some body. He had a feeling she didn’t spend much time on it.

Not that it looked bad, of course, just that it wasn’t the focal point of her day. Which could actually be said about her attire too – blue jeans and a beige shirt and a pair of worn out Nikes. His sister would have a field day with this woman, he thought. Sara Morant would take one look at those shoes and whisk the girl off for a shopping spree.

Of course, Sara would love the girl based solely on the fact that she read, a lot, and then ruin the poor thing by trying to make her into some Cinderella heroine by playing fairy godmother. And then, of course, Brendon would become the very poor, very dysfunctional prince in this fairy tale. Which wouldn’t be so bad, especially if the girl continued to smile at him like that – she had a really great mouth – but at some point everything would go wrong.

And it would somehow be his fault. Again.

Best to just tell her to move along, he thought.