Excerpt from Nothing

David Gordon was 3 years older than me and lived in Central Park. I would see him on beautiful days when Mom decided to pull out her sketchpad and draw. David would always make fun of how neat my clothes were for a homeless girl.

“I’m not homeless!” I would shout, “I live in Grand Central Station.”

He’d show off his rotten teeth with the slyest of smiles, “That’s not home,” He snickered, “You’re a bum, just like me.”

I was nothing like David Gordon. I had a palace, a roof over my head with indoor pluming and food at every trashcan on every corner. “I have neat clothes because my mother has to keep up with our reputation back at the station,” I said proudly, “If you live in a palace, you should dress like it.”

“Yeah, and if you don’t they’ll notice you’re a just bum who isn’t waiting for a train.” He laughed, “You and I share the same life, except I don’t sugar coat it.”

Nothing i’m actually working on, just sparked an idea.


A Formal Thank You

I am in awe. After only a month of blogging I have received so much support for my writing, especially for my snippets. I Love all of your feedback and appreciate everything you have done for my blog.

In return for all of your follows, likes and comments I would like to do something for all of you.

Anyone who would like to comment on this post before midnight will receive a shout out in my next post with a direct link to your blog.

Thanks again guys! Happy Blogging 🙂

Snippet #5

“Gemma! Opal!” my mother cries out, “One of you come here and hold the chair for me, I’m going to slip!”

I walk out into the hallway to see a lazy eyed sister snoozing on the couch and a mother who appears to be practicing the balance beam on a three-legged stool. I hunch over to hold it in place.

My mother is a tall woman, close to six feet. She wears her auburn hair short and neat, like most women in our community. I watch her scavenge through old cardboard boxes on the top shelf of our closet. She groans as a loose hook in the doorframe catches a strand. Her hair is the most stunning shade of copper; it curls at the tips and right beneath the bangs. I wish she would grow out that silly bob cut. It never did her justice.

“Found it!” My mother lowers what appears to be a small, silver container. “Let’s see how well these gems survived.”

Inside the case are two square-cut emerald earrings with gold posts. The only piece of real jewelry we own, and the most beautiful things I’ve ever held. “You want me to go out in public with these?”

“Why not?” she huffs, “It’s your big day.”

There really is no good explanation why I shouldn’t wear them. It is graduation day. We may not be able to afford food, but why should anyone question how we’re able to afford jewelry? I pause to think. “People will talk.”

“So let them talk.”

Mom puts the first gem through my left ear before screwing on the back.

“I heard there’s going to be an assortment of desserts at the ceremony,” I shrug, “Is any of that for us?”

She turns my head and begins twisting in the second. “Probably not,” she scoffs, “Food is a vanity, why would they allow us the pleasure?”

I walk towards the mirror and peer into the fingerprint stained glass. My auburn hair is much longer than my mothers, but dull in comparison. It curls at awkward places and appears more of a light brown than a red. I stare at my fine features and wish they were stronger, a bit more defined. My father has a chiseled face with deep-set eyes and a full set of lips. I inherited none of that.

Today I was hoping to see a capable, sophisticated eighteen-year-old woman staring back, but even I realize that two small rocks aren’t going to make the difference.

“They’re nice.”

“They bring out the green in your eyes,” she smiles.

Fair warning, this is the last snippet I’m going to be posting for a while. While I absolutely love all the feed back I have been getting, I am now reaching a place where I don’t want to share anything before it’s set in stone. I may go back and change these snippets too, If I decide that I need to add or take away. Remember, everything that I post on here is a first draft and it’s mostly done for moral support and critique. I will be morphing Gemma’s story further in my head and on paper, adding detail and creating new characters. I can’t wait to introduce you guys to Opal, Mimi and Gage, But they will have to wait.

Once again, feedback appreciated. On a side note, thank you all for allowing me reach 500 followers!!! WOW. You guys are the best. Love you all!

Journal Entry #1

~Writing Status~

It’s strange. I’ve been keeping my New Years Resolution to write, and although I’ve given you only four snippets I am further along than I ever dreamed. I wrote to you and told you about my dead ends.This one is a keeper. This one has room for a chapter two. I believe that by sharing my snippets with you I have become more motivated and determined to focus on my writing. I thank you all for that.

Here is the problem. There is always a problem. I have a busy semester ahead of me, I have difficult classes along with other time consuming activities. I decided against working this semester, It would have been too much. I also want to rush this year, I found a sorority I maybe able to fit in with. They work with kids and would look beautiful on a resume.

But when will I have time to write? Last night I stayed up to edit my first chapter a bit more. I like it, but I doubt myself. I want to share another snippet with you tomorrow, and I would appreciate feed back. I know it’s only a first draft, and the writing is not perfect, but the story is solid.

I have dreamed about this for too long. I am finally getting somewhere. It’s becoming more than a hobby. I developed a story in my head, this one I intend to share.

Snippet #3

“Come on, Dad, charge up!”

“I can’t, we have to liquefy it.” He grabs his spear and our kill for the day, a few rabbits and a beaver, nothing special.

My father looks at me now, but not with the same glare of pride. “Playing with water, hmm?”

How did he know?

“Your eyelashes are sparkling.”

I look down; my cheeks are as red as the leaves. I wait for him to continue, but he doesn’t. I look to the sky for help, but the birds even seem to turn away. “Am… am I in trouble?”

He scratches his beard.

“You are a daring little six year old, taking after your old man.”

I take it as a compliment.

We sprint back to the border where we exchange our hunt for Charge. My father unfolds his sleeve for the syringe to penetrate his wrist. I watch the golden liquid course through his veins, it runs underneath the light hairs peaking out of his arm. “Beep.” He is granted eighteen percent, eighteen for a family of five. I open my mouth to scream at the guard, to make him pay us more. My father holds me back with a cautionary look, his blue eyes are stone cold.

I glare at the guard on the way through the doors, until he catches my eye. “Shoot,” I mutter as I wipe my lashes.

He saw the droplets.

This snippet marks the end of my prologue. Now we get into the real story. Again, let me know if you guys have any comments, questions or suggestions. I don’t live in fear of critique.

Snippet #2

I wipe my lip and pat my face dry. My hair is loose and damp. I try to cover it up by lifting my hood, but my shirt is wet and my zippers jammed.

“Gemma where are you?” I hear my father’s voice behind the bushes. He peers over and sees me sprinting. My hood is up and my shirt is covered. “I want to show you something.”

I relax. He doesn’t know. “What is it?”

He dusts a large, golden rock with sharp edges and turns to me for approval. “Do you know what this is?”

The rock is awfully bright. It shines like summer on a cold winters day. “It’s beautiful.”

He holds it up so I can see it better. “This is Charge in its natural state.” My father seems proud. He looks around to make sure no one is watching.

I huddle closer to him to block the glare. “It doesn’t look like Charge.”

“This is Nolanite, the element Charge is made from.” He points to my wrist where a measly seven percent glows yellow. “They liquefy it before injecting it into our bodies. This is our life supply, without Charge we can’t survive.”

I check my wrist and watch as the number seven drops to six. I swallow hard. “I could use some Charge right now.”

My father checks his own wrist. He has only four percent left; if it drops to zero we’re done.

We have to get out of here.

Hello again! This is of course a follow up to my Snippet #1. To clarify, “Charge” is everything these self-evolved humans need to survive. Food and water have become obsolete. I really don’t want to give much away other than state the obvious, so therefore I’ll leave the rest for you to ponder. I’d be happy to answer any questions and feed back is appreciated!