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Saturday, November 8, 2008

NanoWriMo Excerpt

As I promised in an earlier post, here if an excerpt from my nano novel.

Disclaimer: This is an unedited and unrevised portion of my NanoWrimo novel. I never said that it was going to be good. lol


My hands smell of memories. Like when I was 5, I went to a babysitter that we called Aunt Caffy. When mom would come pick me up from Aunt Caffy’s house after work, there was always a punch bowl full of candy by the front door. All the kids could take three Starbursts when our parents came to take us home. I was always that last of the kids to be picked up, so Aunt Caffy would let me take six pieces. All the other kids were gone, so it was our little secret. I guess it was her way of making up for the fact that my Mom was usually late. My presence often ran over into her family’s dinner time. The smell of baked chicken or pot roast, oh and the homemade dinner rolls always seemed to seep into the front room where the daycare portion of her home was. I looked forward to my mom picking my up so I could get my candy. I knew that was the only fragrant sustenance that I was going to get that night. I’d throw both of my little hands into that punch bowl and let the little candies was over my hands and fall through my fingers. For some reason, my second favorite Starbursts, the yellow was always relegated to the bottom on the bowl. It was just pointless looking for my very favorite, the red. After eating my six yellow candies, or sometimes a mix of yellow and orange, my hands would always have the sweet smell of that candy bowl.

Like when I would grab her hair in passion. I sometimes, secretly would plan our lovemaking on days that I knew that she had washed her hair. There is a major difference between dating regular ole' run of the mill black girl and a black girl with white ancestry. I love a woman with some good hair. It doesn’t nap up if she washes it often or after a long fit of lovemaking.

When her body is on top of me, I make is my business tilt my head up just so my nose places effortlessly into her short curly do. My hands cup gracefully around the back of her head as I push her slim supple lips into my neck. The scent mixed of ripe cherry and homemade lemonade enraptures my most acute sense. This is truly the sweet smell of contentment. These were the nights when the climax was always more enjoyable. The nights that I could inhale her into my spirit. I‘d always come with sensual ease. Her skin, the color of butter cream and the feel a welcome breeze, melds to mine and I release. Often times, orgasms were work. I’ll tell you, it was much more work than I felt like doing. I’d become a great actress on that accord. I am a simple girl. Mostly, all I want is that flutter between my thighs that is in sync with our heartbeats. Those nights are nostalgia.


The most difficult thing about this process is quieting the editing voices in your head. It's has been a truly arduous task in itself to keep myself from going back over every single word to. It is necessary not to do this if you have any hope of completing 50,000 words by within the 30 days. I mean, leaving your prose vulnerable like this is not easy. You have to learn ( or at least cope) with letting the words exist as they are and trust that although they are not perfect, they play a major role in your ultimate goal.

Nano in itself is a great practice in relinquishing control. EEEEKKK Not my strong suit.

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