Writer Recharge is a month-long motivational challenge similar to last summer’s Ready. Set. Write! So many of us benefited from setting goals, connecting with other writers, and social media-based accountability. So, let’s do it again! Whether you’re delighting next to the crackling fireplace of a Shiny New Idea with a warm cup of tea and or spinning out on the ice-covered roads of revisions in an attempt to avoid the snow-packed ditch, we want to write with you! Learn more HERE.
This last week has been weird. I had a lot of Army Wife Stuff to deal with (lawyerly will-drafting meetings, Family Readiness stuff, etc…) which took up more time than I would have liked. I also ended up revisiting an old story that I may or may not be breathing new life into. All things considered, I still made decent progress with my revision of my WiP, Good Girls, and I’m feeling hopeful about my goal of having a reader-ready draft by the end of February.
I mentioned in last week’s WUW post that I really like my story. I know that seems like a given, but there’ve been a few occasions where I’ve reached this point in the revision game and thought, This story is SO BORING, and threw in the towel. Because if *I* think it’s boring, certainly everyone else will too. So far, I’m not finding Good Girls boring, thank goodness, because I’ve been working on it for nearly a year . It’d suck to give up on it now!
Lots of #WriterRecharge friends shared excerpts last week and I love that idea, so I’m going to include one today…
Begrudgingly, Jenna slipped her hand from Tyler’s and shuffled down the row behind Dylan. When their feet hit the stadium steps, Dylan linked their arms and dragged her to the ladies’ room, where she chose the stall adjacent to Jenna’s.
“Spill it,” she demanded, her voice carrying under the aluminum wall that separated them.
Jenna would have preferred to pee in peace, but evasiveness would never fly.
“I’m having fun,” she said. “I like him.”
“No shit. I saw a lot of hushy-hushy conversation on your end—when I wasn’t slapping Brody’s hand away from my thigh, that is. What were you guys talking about?”
“Baseball.” Jenna smoothed her skirt and flushed the toilet with her foot. When the roar of water quieted, she added, “He wants to go out again.”
“I bet he does.” Dylan emerged from her stall and followed Jenna to the sinks.
“I think he might actually like me. But that’s crazy, right?”
“Yeah. Totally crazy.” In the cloudy bathroom mirror, Jenna saw Dylan give her eyes a cynical roll. Dylan liked to say that every guy who possessed a working pair of balls considered Jenna covetable yet unattainable. The preacher’s virgin daughter, the songbird with enviable talent, the shy girl with the fiery hair… The way Dylan described her made Jenna blush—it was ridiculous to think that boys might desire her. She was mousy and jittery, cast away in her first day of life by the person who was supposed to love her most.
“Come on, Jenny,” Dylan said, flicking water at her. “Why else would he have asked you to come tonight?”
Jenna considered. “Maybe because he’s new to town? Or because he’s nice? Or because he doesn’t know you yet?”
Goal for this week: Wrestle my story’s ending into something awesome.
Tell me: How’s #WriterRecharge going for you?
If you’re participating, don’t forget to post about your progress and share your link at Sara’s blog.