Nanowrimo Novel Word Count: 10,597
Caffeine: morning cup + midmorning cappuccino (offensive foam - looked like Palmolive. Managed to choked it down but will have to make amends for it's vileness at some point today.)
Evil Calories: cookies and Szechuan BBQ chips
Reality TV: suspended due to Nanowrimo
I'm actually a little afraid to look back of what I've written so far because I'm just writing like a crazed crack head. I keep doing word sprints, and I'm fairly certain it all sounds like a big bag of wank. Oh, well...plenty of hilarity for December. I am sticking with the storyline, which is good.
So, here's another excerpt. It will make no sense and is completely rough, so enjoy!
“So…this is heaven?” Anastasia asks.
Gabe smiles in amusement. “This? Oh, no.”
With that, Anastasia’s stomach goes cold. Though she never let it show, she was always a bit paranoid about this happening. When she was ten years old, the mail man had left the mailboxes in her apartment complex unlocked, and she and Abby thought it would be funny to take nasty ol’ Mrs. Pike’s electric bill in hopes that her power would be cut off and she could no longer watch The Price is Right and yell “Pass! Pass!” at top volume. Three weeks later, Mrs. Pike had a stroke, and Anastasia couldn’t help but feel riddled with guilt that the stroke could have been caused by a hot tempered call to the electric company. Throughout her life, Anastasia tried to make amends for her crime. She was very diligent about staying away from other people mail, and always overpaid her own electric bill, but clearly it was not enough. Clearly that one offense had cost her her soul, and now she was doomed to hell for all eternity. Though she may be more appropriately dressed for that particular realm, it was a realm she wanted nothing to do with.
Luckily, Gabe sees the panic quickly spreading across her face, and immediately amends his statement. “No, no you’re good. You’re golden. It’s isn’t heaven…but…well, think of it as the front yard. Or the front porch. Or more like a waiting room, really. Are you sure you don’t have any Fran’s Chocolates on you? Not even a Goldbar or anything?”
Anastasia furrows her brow. “No…sorry.”
“Oh,” Gabe says, looking crestfallen.
“So…what happens now?” she asks.
“Right,” Gabe says. “We should get to it. Hey, do you get car sick easily?”
“Umm…I don’t think so,” Anastasia says, feeling completely confused.
Before Anastasia can even ask why, she feels the entire world around them shift around at a hair raising speed. Her arms flail around to try and find something to cling to, the trees and grass whizzing past her in a green blur. Just as she’s about to lose her balance completely, things come to a screeching stop. Anastasia looks around, a strange sense of familiarity sinking in. The shops, the restaurants. The gargantuan hill. She looks over at Gabe feeling completely thrown. “This isn’t heaven. This is Queen Anne.”
“Now, some people would argue that statement,” he says, taking a look around. “Queen Anne is very nice place.”
Anastasia gives him a blank look. Queen Anne was one of the nicest neighborhoods in Seattle, but she always pictured heaven a little less pricey and a little more spread out. Queen Anne was basically just a large hill with an excessive number of house, condos and shops crammed onto it, and from the I-5 expressway it looked very much like something out of a Dr. Suess book.