Brenda Drake . . . under the influence of coffee: August 2010

Sunday, August 29, 2010

Emily White over at Stepping into Fantasy is hosting a Fairy Tale Blogfest check it out here and go read all the other participants' entries: http://steppingintofantasy.blogspot.com/2010/08/fairy-tale-blogfestcontest.html

So when searching for a tale to use for the Fairy Tale Blogfest nothing was inspiring me. I almost decided to give up. I searched and searched and came across this: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mother_Goose_Tales
It says that Bluebeard is a fairy tale so I decided to go with it.

Bluebeard is a tale about a terrible husband who's wives keep disappearing. He marries a neighbor girl and forbids her from going into his secret room. While he's out of the country she finds his magical key that opens the secret room. When her sister, Anne, visits she convinces her to go into the room. When she opens it she finds blood, gore, and his missing wives bodies. She locks the room up but blood remains on the key and Bluebeard finds out she went into his room. Before he kills her, she tricks him into delaying and her brothers come and rescue her. They kill Bluebeard. End of story.

So here's my modern tale of Bluebeard. Since I only decided to join the blogfest today, I fear it might not be that good because I rushed it. Plus, since this is for fun, I decided to play with a tense I'm not use to. I can't wait to read the rest of the entries. Thanks for stopping by!

"I can't believe you're finally here," Anne says, grabbing a stuffed mushroom off the plate.

"Jet lag is an understatement," I go. "I had to stay up all night to get that stupid report done before I left."

"Girl, I don't care how tired you are. We are so going to shut this town down tonight."

Her friends bore me. They're all small town and back woodsy. I watch and wonder as Anne chatters to her new friends. This little town stuff really suits her. I smile. She's happy in her life with Brian.

"So who's the eye candy over there," I say, raising the martini glass to my lips and taking a long sip.

"That's Jack Bluebeard," Anne goes. "You should avoid him. He's been married several. . ."

I'm already up from my seat before she finishes that last bit. My approach to his table is total vixen-like and his eyes follow me until I bridge the distance between us.

"Hi, I'm Fatima. May I join you?"

The intensity in his dark eyes captivates me, and I slide into the chair beside him. That slow, sexy grin ensnarls me and before long, I'm lost in conversation with him. He's cute, and according to Anne, he's the richest man in town. What's not to love?

That was the night I met Bluebeard--as his friends like to call him. It was a whirlwind romance. Less than three months and we were married. A day after the honeymoon my nightmare began.

I went from a career girl to his slave, quitting my job and friends. Let's see, his dinner must be ready precisely at six, his under shorts and bed sheets ironed before used, and his insatiable desires satisfied each night, or he's a beast to live with. Oh, and I'm forbidden from entering his secret room. No wonder one wife went off with a man she met on twitter, another wife went home to her mother, and his third wife joined the Peace Corps.

I glance at the clock and exhale. Bluebeard's meeting with his accountant just started. My husband works from home so I'm never alone. The moment's freedom feels good.

Anne knocks at the side door. I let her in.

"Hey," she goes, looking me up and down. "You look awful."

"That's why you're here. We only have an hour."

She grabs the suitcase in the middle of the kitchen. "Well, let's hurry then."

I follow her to the door and stop. "Shit, I forgot my purse up stairs. I'll be right back."

"Just hurry, already."

I'm about to take the first step on the stairs and there's Bluebeards office keys on the carpet. I pick them up and rush up the staircase. I know it's not the greatest idea, but I'm curious about what the jerk keeps in that damn room. I slide the key into the lock, and it clicks open. My shaky hand pushes the heavy door wider. Air rushes out in a gust. A moldy stench punches my face and I gag. There's barely any light coming from the heavily draped windows.

The sight of them makes me scream. I hear Anne scramble up the stairs. The bodies are like white ghosts hanging from hooks on the wall, dust floating around them like smoke. Rusty stains streak their naked paleness. They all resemble me, long and slender with large breast. Heads tilted to one side, their frozen eyes watch me.

Anne gasps from behind me. "They're Jack Bluebeard's wives."

I stand there unable to move.

Anne grabs my arm. "Let's get out of here. The dude is seriously unstable."

The front door opens and slams below us.

I pull from her and walk across the floor leaving a trail in the plaster dust.

She follows.

"They're so beautiful," I say and run my finger down the cold cheek of one.

His footfalls announce his arrival before he actually stops in the door frame.

"What are you doing in here?" his angry voice reaches out to me.

I spin to face him. "What is all this?"

His shoulders sag. "It's my art."

"Why is there blood all over them?" I turn back, my eyes finding the statues once again.

"It's not blood. It's from the roof damage a few years back."

"I don't understand. Why?"

He moves into the room. Anne scurries over to the window.

"When they left me I was devastated. Capturing their imagines in sculpture was therapeutic for me. Fatima, I know I'm controlling and possessive but I want to change. I don't have a meeting with my accountant. I have one with a therapist. I forgot my medical card, so I came back for it. Please don't leave me. Give me another chance. I promise--"

"Maybe since you have more money than God," Anne begins. "You could get a damn maid to iron your underwear."

"Stay out of this, Anne."

"I'll do anything," he pleads.

In this dim light, the shadows touch all the beautiful sharp edges of his face. His blue eyes hold me, begging me to love him. I glance at the victims of his love. Their lips are all the same, corners up, bottom lip plump. They're perfect except for the rust that stains them. His love ruined them. He's locked them away for no one to see. Kept for only his greed. Do people really change? Bluebeard's eyes are watching me but he never truly sees me.

"I'm sorry it's just too late," I say and push past him. "Come on, Anne."

The clicks of Anne's heels follow me through the hallway and down the stairs. I grab the handle of my suitcase and drag it after me.

21 comments

Thursday, August 26, 2010

Word Paint Blogfest

Dawn Embers at http://dawnembers.blogspot.com is hosting the Word Paint Blogfest. Check it out and visit the other participants blogs for their entries.

Here's my entry:

(redacted)
Thanks for visiting!

17 comments

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Rainy Day Blogfest

Christine at http://thewritershole.blogspot.com/ is hosting the Rainy Day Blogfest today. Check out the details and read the other participants' entries listed here http://thewritershole.blogspot.com/2010/08/announcing-rainy-day-blogfest.html or in her own words...

I love rain. I love the way it sounds, the way it smells, the way it makes the air feel, the way it tastes on my tongue. Do you love rain, too? Or do rainy days get you down? Does rain interfere with your outdoor plans? Or make commuting horrible? Or inspire you to write poetic verses about the heavens weeping o'er the fields?

What about your characters? How does rain affect them?

Here's my entry:

(redacted)

20 comments

Rainy Day Blogfest August 25th

Join in the fun and enter Christine's Rainy Day Blogfest on August 25th!

Can't wait to read all the entries!

http://thewritershole.blogspot.com

2 comments

Friday, August 20, 2010

Guess That Character Blogfest ...Revealed

Well, it was a blast reading everyone's snippets during Guest That Character Blogfest. Thanks to Jenn Daiker for hosting such a great Blogfest. Visit her website here: http://jennifer-daiker.blogspot.com/

So here's what my main character from LIBRARY JUMPERS looks like. (redacted)

Stats:
Name: Gianna (Gia) Kearns
Age: 17
Ethnicity: Italian/Irish (she takes after her Italian mother)
Hair color: Brown
Eye color: Amber
Height: 5'5"
Build: Athletic
Hobbies: Kickboxing, Fencing, plays the violin, loves libraries and books

Gia is not a girly-girl type, she prefers sparring with boys instead of kissing them. She wears her hair in a ponytail most of the time and prefers a nude face. She prefers jeans and a tee to stupid whirly skirts. She can't live without her Rootbeer Lipsmacker. Her mother is deceased and she lives with her stepfather, Brian Kearns. She's never met her deadbeat biological father. Her best friends are Afton Williams and Nick D'Marco. She lives in the North End in Boston, Massachusetts.

So, who do I feel got real darn close to guessing Gia? I'd say pretty much everyone got something, or rather, several things correct about Gia. The closest was CreepyQueryGirl, aspiring_x, Steph Sinkhurn, and Tali Roland. Margo Berendsen's guess nailed Gia's personality but it's Afton who looks like Zoe Saldana.

Go here to read all the other participants' entries: http://www.linkytools.com/basic_list.aspx?id=36961

26 comments

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Guess That Character Blogfest

http://jennifer-daiker.blogspot.com/2010/07/she-looks-like-what.html

Here is a snippet of my novel LIBRARY JUMPERS. Can you guess what Gia looks like?

SNIPPET

(redacted)
END

Come back tomorrow to see a picture of what Gia looks like and see if you guessed right!

33 comments

Friday, August 13, 2010

And . . . my brain is officially larger

Well, I didn't really have time for yummy coffee today, since I was at my literary group meeting this morning. The coffee was a little weak, which means it was strong for everyone else. From Tuesday through Thursday, I did nothing but attend the online WriteOnCon, which was totally awesome. There were agents, editors, and authors all chatting, vloging, and blogging so much useful stuff that I feel like they crammed five years of knowledge into just three days. Here's a link to access the YouTube vlog: http://www.youtube.com/user/writeoncon#p/us

I think I got a lot out of the character and plot posts. Also, it was fun to watch the live chats with skype. I really got a feel for the agents' personalities. The forums were wonderful and it was nice to get further critiques on my query and first pages. I meet some new friends and started tweeting. All in all, I was impressed. The gals at WriteOnCon really put together a first class conference.

So, did you attend the conference, and if you did, what part was your favorite?

4 comments

Friday, August 6, 2010

If you're not a writer . . . you just don't understand

I think I've been pretty grumpy lately, and it's caused by the fact that I have to drink Skinny Sugar-free No-fun Carmel Lattes. Okay, they're kind of growing on me but still, I think a splurge is in order, so today it's a full-blown-with-all-the-sin Carmel Macchiato. Yummy.

When friends and family ask, "How do you get published?" I usually joke, "You don't." The question mark on their faces tells me they don't get the joke. It's too hard for them to comprehend how difficult it is finding an agent. The query letter is beyond them, and they don't get the submission process at all. It usually takes quite a bit of time to explain to them about how it works. Afterward, they always give their suggestions as to how they would do it.

"Why don't you self-publish or make an e-book?" some will ask. "Then they'll see how popular your book is and snatch it up for a movie or something." This is where my eyes glass over and my mind wanders to how I wouldn't mind if Jon Hamm's character on Mad Men treated me as badly as he treats his secretary.

I don't give people suggestions on how to perform brain surgery, build an engine, program a computer, or use Excel. Heck, if I did, scary things could happen. Even so, if I'd ask for an explanation of any of the aforementioned things, I would listen for a bit and then my eyes would glass over and my mind would wander to how I wouldn't mind if Jon Hamm's. . . Anyway, I'd never say, "Hey, why don't you deliver babies, work on bikes, program DVD players or use Word Perfect instead?"

So how do you handle questions about querying and why your manuscript isn't published yet?

That's it. Slurp! (yum . . . carmel)

8 comments