Red Hots and Cold Cases (A short scene)

The summer of 1925

“It’s really quite simple, once you think about it.”

“it can’t be that simple, even the police ruled it a suicide.” I leaned on the counter and ordered. “Two red hots and a root beer” I glanced behind me at Mr.Cooper. His shoulders had stiffened from being crammed into the crowd of hollering teenagers. I grinned. “You want a soda pop, boss?”

His wrinkled face pinched into a scowl. “Too much sugar.” What a flat tire.

“Make that two root beers”

We made our way to the Coney Island boardwalk. The sound of waves crashing and thrilled screams filled the air. “I don’t know why you insisted on coming here. It’s terribly noisy” He huffed as he eased onto a wooden bench, holding onto his walking stick.

“It’s summer. We live in Coney Island.” Ladies were prancing around in tiny bathing suits, showing off their curves and exposed knees. “What could be better than this?” I raised my root beer in an unmet cheers.

Mr.Cooper took a sip and grimaced. “Solving a murder case” He furrowed his thick grey eyebrows and removed his hat, wiping the sweat off his brow with a handkerchief.

“Or agreeing he shot himself” I took a bite of my Frankfurter and gazed out at the ocean.

“You think finding a scribbled message about how cruel the world is and what appears to be a self-inflicted gun shot wound to the temple is enough to prove a man killed himself?”

“Pretty much”

The detective began to ramble on about his brilliant revelation, how seemingly minor details led him to his remarkable conclusion. I didn’t hear a word of it. I was to busy eyeing the gams of a gorgeous brunette with a sharp bob smiling at me underneath her parasol.

“Are you listening, Oscar?”

“Absolutely, boss”


Meet Detective Cooper and his assistant, Oscar Fitzgerald.

These characters have been in my head for quite awhile, and i’m planning on writing about them during November. This is just a short scene, not connected to the story i’m trying to outline for NaNoWriMo. I’m still working on getting in the zone of writing in the perspective of a young man in the 1920s, but I just wanted to show you guys a little tidbit of these characters and their relationship. Hope you liked reading this shortie, let me know if you guys want to read more scenes like this one.

Write with Heart,

Lady Jabberwocky

 

Advertisements

Act One, Scene One (Poem)

Act One, Scene One.
It always starts with Act One, Scene One.
Take a moment, become your character.
The cello strings moan in anticipation.
The stage is set.
The wood floor is glossy and shining under the lights.
Red velvet curtains are drawn with golden tassels.
Keep your toes pointed.
The audience is taking their seats.
Remember your lines, remember your cues.
Remember to breathe.
Remember,
It always starts with Act One, Scene One.


Felt like posting a poem tonight, which is rare, I’ll admit. I’m more of a fiction writer than a poet. This is from a poetry class I took in college last year.

Here is a poem about beginnings.

It’s something I’m trying to keep in mind at this particular point in my life.

Write With Heart,

Lady Jabberwocky

Looking back at my old (cringe-worthy) writing.

Hey everyone!

Today, I thought I’d show you guys a little snippet from my past writing. Now keep in mind, we all had to start somewhere. And that I am putting myself in an embarrassing  situation on purpose.

Let me set the scene. This was written in 2011 (practically 100 years ago) in a time when I thought writing was a fun little thing to do and not an actual craft. All I knew was that I loved storytelling, but I don’t think I considered myself a serious writer yet. I believe I was a senior in high school (or possibly a junior) when I got this piece of paper with a list of all the college majors. I was to choose one, a decision that would impact my future (because you know exactly what you want to do for the rest of your life at 17). Checking off the ‘Creative Writing’ box seemed most appealing to me, at the time. Who knew it would be so important to me today?

This also dictated how I was to go about my senior project, which is sorta like a test drive for the field a student is interested in. Basically, for my project, I worked with an English teacher after school and I wrote a couple of short (horrible) stories that she critiqued and gave me notes on. I love super heroes and comics, even back then when I was young and impressionable. So I created my own super hero…. Kinda. The character’s name was Joey, he had some supernatural abilities, and was a guy juggling his masked vigilante life with his love life.

Don’t judge me, I didn’t know any better.  Here is a snippet of one of those stories.

image

Wow, Majorly cringing. 

Like I said, we all had to start somewhere. Looking back at old stories, I really can learn from my past mistakes.  Here’s just a few I can pick out. (Translation: Me about to vent about how terrible this was)

  1. Fudge, look at that giant chunk of an intro paragraph.
  2. What a grabber of a first line. “The city was dark and gloomy” Really hooks in the reader right off the bat.
  3. I don’t think I knew about the ‘Show, Don’t tell’ rule at the time. That whole first paragraph could probably be condensed into like three sentences.
  4. It sounds how I would normally talk, not how someone else would. Big narration problem there.
  5. Are we watching Powerpuff girls? “Forces of evil” Seriously?
  6. “I want you to break up with me” Who was I? Trying to be so dramatic. Damn.
  7. Did my younger self actually think this was good writing?

Well, there you guys have it, an embarrassing look back at my old work. Don’t worry, I have no problem critiquing and making fun of my writing. Let me know what you guys think, and maybe take a look at your old cringe worthy stuff. I always love hearing from you.

Write with heart,
Lady Jabberwocky

Life is Short; Signing up for NaNoWriMo

I didn’t know if I was going to write something today or not. First and foremost, my thoughts and condolences are with those affected by the tragedy in Vegas.  The situation is truly horrible. It really makes me think about how short life is.

Before I heard about the Vegas shooting, I was planning to write a post about whether or not I should participate in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) this year. I’m an indecisive person who has a hard time getting motivated sometimes. I’ll be honest, I’ve been having moments of self-doubt in regards to my writing lately and 50,000 words is an ambitious goal (for me, at least). And then something like this happens, and it’s absolutely horrible… And it makes you want to take a chance and not live life with what ifs.  So, I signed up to be apart National Novel Writing Month.

It’s gonna be a challenge,  but I’m gonna try. Who knows if I’ll make it to 50,000 words in a month, but it could be a great adventure. I have really amazing support in my life, telling me to just go for it and see what happens. There is a story  I’ve been doing a lot of outlining and research for. I really just want to focus my thoughts on writing a larger piece. Maybe participating in NaNoWriMo will give me the push and the focus I need. No harm in trying, right?

For those of you that have had that NaNoWriMo experience, what was it like for you? Any Pros or Cons? I’m excited to read your comments.

Write with heart,
Lady Jabberwocky

 

 

Making faces while writing.

I may have embarrassed myself at the public library today.

I went to do some more writing, actually I finished a short story (Side note; I submitted the story to a literary magazine, hoping it gets published. Everybody, cross your fingers and toes for me). Anyways, I was fixing up this part of dialogue where two characters are arguing. And I was really getting into it. So much so that I think… I was making faces. Like sassy and pissed off kind of faces. Also, on top of that, I was jamming out to the Hamilton soundtrack, which means I was for sure chair dancing and lip syncing silently to myself. I must have looked nuts. But I wasn’t paying attention to what I looked like (a crazy person), I was focusing on my writing. But I think all writers do that, right? Make strange faces when their completely absorbed in writing a story. I’d like to think it’s the sign of a good writer, or at least a very passionate insane one. I say keep making faces, you guys.

Have any of you ever caught yourself, or has someone else caught you, making faces while writing? Or does this only happen to me? Let me know in the comments. I’d love to hear for you all.

Write with Heart,

Lady Jabberwocky

Remembering Show, Don’t Tell

Had a pretty successful editing session today. I spent a good two or so hours at the library editing some short stories. Am I done? Probably not. Are writers ever really done editing? There’s always something. Something to add, something to tweak, something to just plain get rid of.

But I noticed I was making multiple corrections of a similar issue. At certain points in my stories, I was showing, not telling. If there is one golden rule of writing fiction that I’ve learned, it’s the rule of “Show, don’t tell”.

Let me explain real quick. “Show, don’t tell” simply means letting the reader experience the story through actions and senses instead of exposition. It’s a slight adjustment of word choice. For example, “I was nervous” compared to “My hands trembled”. See? By doing so, it makes for a stronger piece.

 So, I looked at my writing through a microscope and made some changes. I swapped out adverbs for more specific verbs. I crossed out parts that sounded like an explanation. There truly was, in my opinion, a noticeable improvement. I’m definitely keeping the “Show, don’t tell” rule in mind as I continue to write, and you guys should too.

Write with heart,
Lady Jabberwocky
6b99f5c79cd0eb178f09db22b78ecbc6

 

Rainy Day Editor’s Block

On this rainy and muggish day, I am plagued with Editor’s block. A similar ailment to Writer’s block. I’m working on these old stories of mine for some literary magazines I’ve been interested in submitting work to. I’m trying to make serious changes to them. Like the big kind of edits. For one story, I’m thinking of changing things like the central conflict as well as reworking characterization for most of the characters. The really integral nuts and bolts of the story. Ugh. This is where the Editor’s block comes in. It’s that slightly overwhelming and daunting feeling of “I don’t even know where to start”. It can be a stressful task.

 
So I took a break.
For both Editor’s and Writer’s block, taking a break can actually be very helpful. Just stopping for a while, walking away from the project, and collecting your thoughts is sometimes the best thing for the creative process. So that’s what I did. I took a break, had a Matzo Ball soup (courtesy of the local diner) and got comfortable (courtesy of cozy sweatpants). Pausing for a moment helped organized my ideas and really made be focus on the things that need to be focused on in my work.

 
Hopeful I write something good enough to get published this time.

 
Write with heart,
Lady Jabberwocky