My Winner Certificate |
I haven't named my novel yet. For now, I'm the author of NaNoWriMo 2010. |
Below is an excerpt from my NaNoWriMo 2010 novel. Scene setup: Rogelio is a mentally challenged man and Maria is his sister. Their neighbors, Billy and Monica, are unable to have children of their own.
“What are you doing?” screamed Maria. “Who is that!”
“Just go, Maria. Hurry up and go!” yelled Rogelio.
“Who's baby is that?” asked Maria. “What the hell’s going on?”
“Just get us home,” Rogelio growled through gritted teeth. Maria cowered. Rogelio was a big man. For the first time, she was afraid of him. She stomped on the accelerator and the tires of her red Pinto squealed as she tore out of the parking lot.
“Mommy, Mommy, I want my mommy,” Cassie sobbed.
Rogelio turned his attention to the little girl on his lap. He relaxed. “Don’t cry,” he said softly. “I won’t hurt you.” Cassie turned and looked into Rogelio’s face. His big brown eyes were warm and friendly and his voice calmed her. She stopped crying.
“I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but we’re gonna be in jail before the day’s over. The cops will be looking for her, you know,” Maria said. “I bet they'll think this was my idea, but it damned well wasn’t.” Three blocks from the grocery store, Maria turned in the driveway and parked in the attached garage. Rogelio reached up and pushed a button. The garage door closed.
Maria jerked the car door open. Her vomit splattered on the cement floor. “Damn. This is nuts.” She pressed her forehead to the steering wheel. Her body trembled. She forced her head back and stared at Rogelio. “Talk to me. Tell me why this little girl is here in our car. You went in the store for milk and bread. I know you’re stupid, but this is crazy.”
Rogelio shrank from Maria’s harsh words. “She’s pretty, isn’t she?” he said. “I got her for Billy and Monica.”
(Every single time I take a peek at this excerpt, I change something. Nothing major, but I delete or change a word or two. It's hard to know when to stop! I'll probably keep revising until I don't know how to write it better. To edit the entire novel, I suspect I'll be at it for a long, long time).
(Every single time I take a peek at this excerpt, I change something. Nothing major, but I delete or change a word or two. It's hard to know when to stop! I'll probably keep revising until I don't know how to write it better. To edit the entire novel, I suspect I'll be at it for a long, long time).