Happy Monday, all!!! So sorry - I'm WAY off my regular schedule today. But, I've got a reason. Sort of.
I'm participating in Brenda Drake's "Show Me the Voice" contest today!
I'm supposed to post the first 250 words of my MS for critiques today. I've tweaked the first few paragraphs of my MS 1,365,479 times (or so, you know...) Even a few more times this morning! Still not sure if I like/love it. It's more likely that I dislike/loathe it. Depends on my mood ~ :)
Anyhow - if anyone is out there and feels like dishing some brutal honesty today - I'd appreciate comments on the following:
My birthday morning started the same as always. For a girl who was so not a morning-person three-hundred and sixty four other days of the year, I woke up alert and smiling, my energy meter tipping into the red. I woke Mom up with a sound she best described as a helium-sucking squirrel. She threw on a robe and scampered down to the kitchen to cook my favorite breakfast meal; Belgium waffles with fresh strawberries and whipped cream, burnt bacon and mint cocoa.
“Gonna let me help this year?” I offered.
“Nope. Shove off, birthday girl.”
So I spent thirty minutes in the living room waiting, daydreaming of birthday presents and tonight’s party. It was a silly ritual for a newly seventeen-year-old. I should be cooking my own darn breakfast and daydreaming of boys, one in particular. Shane. Although, handling a hot griddle while daydreaming of one luscious boyfriend was clearly an accident waiting to happen. Focus, Clara! I decided it might be best to shake off all thoughts and wrapped myself in the blue-speckled afghan that hung over the back of my favorite leather armchair. I closed my eyes and sucked in the smell of bacon. My toes dug into the plush, mulberry-colored carpet and I let my body lax and my mind wander.
When it hit, I opened my eyes to make sure no one was actually slapping my face. No one hovered near me. I still heard my mom tinkering in the kitchen. But flashes started to pop in front of my face, as if some phantom hand shoved picture after picture a half inch from my nose.
So, there you have it! (if you hear some virtual gagging, ignore please...) I believe there's still time to get in on the contest, which offers a critique from agent Natalie Fischer as a prize. Click the button on my side bar. Again, all comments welcome. And here's hoping that all your first paragraphs actually LOVE you!