Hope All Hallow’s Eve was a smash hit for everyone! Tonight I’m bucking down to work on my NaNoWriMo attempt while my husband plays Skyrim. Between that and hot cocoa it doesn’t get much better. But I’m reminded in just dredging up the courage to write that being real and personal is exhausting. It’s far easier for me to write an urban fantasy adventure about kick ace heroines than it is to pull from real life. But here goes nothing. I’m going to attempt to write from the heart and bring y’all along on the adventure with a trail of bread crumbs.
“Write what you know.” — Mark Twain
“One miserable week of feeling sorry for myself later, I dreamed about home. But it wasn’t the home I knew in the present, rather the way it was when I was little. More trees filled our land and we had fewer neighbors. Yet instead of walking through the dream as a child, I was just unspectacular adult me. And something was calling me home, calling me to that mysterious back field with the chest-high grass. I had come back home with a group of family friends but ran to the back field alone.
That was when I felt it watching me, a presence I couldn’t see even though I knew it was there. The ghost never said anything or appeared, but I stood looking and waiting for it to show in the wind at any moment.
I woke up to the sound of the front door opening, more than a little creeped out, my arms covered in goose bumps. Something pricked at the back of my mind.
Am I late for something?
I sighed and stared up at the light peeking past my curtain rod and shining on the glow-in-the-dark stars I’d stuck up there in junior high.
Oh yeah, you got fired yesterday, Gwyneth.
… to be continued