Today, I brought my copy of Heart of Gold with me, because I was going to show one of my writerly fellows at writing group tonight. When I got into the office, one of my coworkers asked how my novel was. Pleased she asked, I told her I had it in the car. She wanted to see it, and later in the afternoon, I went down to get it and show her. She liked the phrase "supporting her words with numbers" on the back in the little about the author blurb. Warm fuzzies all around.
Then, a friend from another floor came in to say hi, and I showed her the book, and she was suitably impressed. Beyond the book, I was glad I ran into her, since I rarely see her anymore. We used to work in the same department and now we're on different floors. And she's been very busy flying hither and yon for the company. So all around good to see her :)
Then I showed the book to the security guard, who's a very nice man who always says hello. He was amazed. He asked when it would be published and how did I possibly write a novel in 30 days. More warm fuzzies.
I went up to the executive floor and showed another friend, the EA for the president , my book, and she was just floored. We chatted for a moment and then I went back downstairs to show my former supervisor (who gave me a day off in November to help finish the book). She had already left for the day *snap* so I'll just have to bring it in tomorrow.
Not like I mind, after all the positive reactions... I should write a book every November... Oh wait, I do!
And now, back to the writing or editing or something resembling such.
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2 comments:
Exerpt! Exerpt!
Ok :) Here's a brief excerpt just for you. I'll email you the link (which is also under Nano 2005 on my sidebar)
Decorated in late 70s B-movie kitsch, the deep shag carpeting reminded me of my childhood, and not in a pleasant way. The room reeked of cigarette and cigar smoke, partially from the cigar resting in a large cut crystal ash tray and partly from the stale left over stink that clung to everything, the ceiling yellowed with the tar, the rust colored carpet fibers, the upholstery of the golden rod chairs. Q gestured to the two chairs facing the desk as he picked up the cigar and began puffing on it. I coughed as my throat tried to close to keep the vile smoke from my lungs.
“Oh, do you mind if I smoke?” Q set the cigar back in the ashtray, but did not extinguish the brown stub. I shook my head, it was his office and if I couldn’t breathe, I could escape faster. I concentrated on breathing through my mouth.
“My apologies, Miss Cathie. Let me get down to business.” A chill ran up my spine, that hairy spider began making laps. I had never been present for one of these chats, but Bobby had told me about a few. No good came of those words, I had learned.
“Your brother has, shall we say, overextended his credit with me. He has lead me to understand you will be able to help us resolve this little situation peaceably as it were.” His hands came together with his fingers steepled, and he began to ripple them, the tips opening and closing like a hungry anemone searching for a meal.
“How much?” I had also learned that getting right to the point would cut some of the time down on negotiations.
“A lot.” Q reached in the top drawer and withdrew a junior pad of paper. He pulled the pen out and jotted down a number then handed me the paper. I tried not to let my surprise show. I could only gape. I gave Bobby around fifty dollars a week to keep him in spending money between jobs. How in the world could he get into ten thousand dollars of debt? Just over the summer? If I could have killed him that second without any repercussions, I would have.
“I don’t have this kind of money. I work in a cubicle farm at a big corporation. My car is seven years old and I don’t own my own home.” I turned to Bobby. “How did this happen?” I begged him to tell me this was just a big joke on his gullible sister, my eyes locked on his but couldn’t keep the connection.
“I really couldn’t tell you, sis. I had a run of bad luck, but some other good odds came in and I thought…”
“You clearly did NOT think. You were betting? After all I went through last spring?” I looked back down at the number on the page. Ten Thousand Dollars might as well be Ten Million Dollars. My credit cards had either maxed months ago or canceled my accounts.
“I am not responsible for my brother. I’m sorry, Mr. Q, but I cannot be held responsible. I have to go now.” I stood up in the deep shag carpeting, my heels getting caught in the long strands.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Cathie. But I understand. We will just handle this as we had previously discussed, Bobby.” Q’s beady eyes bored into me as he spoke to my brother. I turned to Bobby. In his eyes I saw the first trace of true terror lurking behind his false bravado.
“Bobby?” My eyes got bigger as my mind wrapped around the threat implicit in Q’s words. “What does he mean?” My mind’s gears tried to turn, to come up with a solution or a thought or anything, but the gears had slipped.
“Q’s going to kill me when you leave.” The flatness in his voice belayed the terror behind his words. Flat and final. And I could never let that happen.
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