Today I'm participating in my first blogfest.
Pick any five lines from one of your WIPs or share from something you LOVE.
As a recovering poet-perfectionist I'm finding it hard to just finish a first draft. Everyone tells me, "just make a note and move on. You can fix that later."
What? fix it later? And leave these glaring blemishes behind in my work? They're right of course. Since I'm never satisfied I know I can't finish a book that way.
This blogfest has given me a great excuse to to look back at the scenes that I love. It still isn't perfect but I have to be able to share my work if I'm ever going to consider myself a writer!
Love - Again
I know I might have seemed cynical about love (based on my earlier post) but I'm really a romantic. Plus reading all the entries from the Love All Year Long Contest has got me wanting to share the love too.
I love the passion of initial attraction and then the spiritual realization of so much more. I am going to share two scenes. The first one is from my WIP where the attraction is just budding. (it's a lot longer than 5 sentences but I just couldn't decide where to cut) Ex and Vee just had a mishap resulting in them sliding down a waterfall together.
The sun shone in Ex’s eyes but he didn’t blink or turn away. They were blue-grey, much like hers, with one difference she couldn’t see until now. In the center, circling close to the pupil was a golden star.
“What happened?’ He panted. “Where did you come fro-”
Vee pulled with her arms around his neck and put her lips to his.
Ex jumped with surprise then moved his lips slowly to deepen the kiss. One hand found her damp auburn hair, the other lifted Vee, pulling her close.
Her excitement from the fall intensified and her arms clung to his lean shoulders. Ex’s fingers were caught in tangles at the back of her head. His hold on her lower back tightened with each breath.
Hawk smiled at her wide-eyed wonder, realized that he felt the same wonder himself, and suddenly they were together once again. How long they stood thus he could not say. Surely it was no more than a few seconds. Still, in that perverse way a man's mind has of working when it is completely nonplussed, he thought not of her words and of their meaning, not of the differences of their clans, but of the strange fire that was suddenly burning from deep within the frighteningly green depths of her eyes.
Hawk had never seen that fire, could not yet know its meaning, and so he gazed, dumbfounded, as the woman who had taught him to love all others, and who had taught him almost all else of true importance, now suddenly and more than willingly shared her own great and personal love with him.