Eyes of a Child-Part 1
This is the opening of the first chapter of this book I’m working on. I’m undecided about whether the opening paragraphs in blue work as a good contrast, or whether they focus on “Nancy” then jump disconcertingly to the parents. __________ My mother named me after a song, “Nancy with the Laughing Face.” When I was two, I wandered from my mother in a department store and stumbled into a kind elderly man. He led me back to her and bought me a fluffy stuffed kitten that I treasured for years. I started out so innocent, so friendly. Not so…
New Book Opening
First Word I might rather have been a slave in the Deep South before the Civil War. The road to slavery might be short or long. Mine was long. It started with parents who hid secrets that lurked in ever-growing shadows, secrets that wounded me whether I knew them or not. Their neglect of me and of what the secrets caused gave an open invitation to rapists, starting with junior high boys. Like a long, winding row of perverse dominoes, that path brutalized me on to graduation into New York City sex trafficking. Shane’s image comes alive. Unlike him it…
In the Alley-Part 3
The initial pshhht of the 911 radio dispatch gave way to the lovely cadence of a woman’s voice: “Squad 19, do you read me?” The emergency medical technician pushed the switch on his radio mic. “Loud and clear.” “Situation in an alley off San Pedro, on the east side, between Fifth Street and Sixth.” “Alley, San Pedro, east side, between Fifth and Sixth.” “Correct. White male down. Apparent drug overdose.” “Squad 19 is ready and on our way.” “Copy that.” Rick, the EMT, called to his partner, “Let’s roll!” The two slung on their coats, made quick visual checks on…
In the Alley-Part 2
This is a contrasting voice to the one in Part 1. Does it work? Derek Dad founded his own tech company. So I’m kind of an offspring of Silicon Valley. But I never really lived up to it. I was more into partying than sitting in front of computer screens. Mom and Dad took my brother, sister, and me on family trips every year. I liked France and Italy the most. They’ve both got great hotels, great beaches, and great wine. Every winter we all skied at Aspen or Vail or Breckenridge. The day I got my license Dad took…
“In the Ally” — Part 1
This short story is in three parts: one of a kid who grew up in the inner city, another of a rich kid who fell, and their point of contact. I’m not sure about how far to go with the inflected speech of the first young man, Jamal. One of my friends helped me with the authenticity of it. I don’t know if it’s too much or not. What do you think? “In the Alley” — Part 1 Jamal Dad beat me every time he got drunk, and he got drunk every day. Da one time I can remember…
