So now I’m off and running. This week, as part of the Writer’s Rendezvous workshop selections, I submitted the first ten pages of my manuscript to a professional editor by the name of Donna Cook. I chose her because she is known for being able to help emerging authors take their work to the next level. I read her reviews, her bio and felt that she was the best choice for me. In May, when I attend the workshop in Boise, I will have a twenty minute session with her to go over my work together.
I know that sometime soon, I will need to begin working closely with a professional editor so I have been doing a little research in this area in anticipation of making a selection. There is another editor in the UK by the name of Doug Watts that I like. He has seen a small sample of my manuscript and offered tips and advice I thought was very good. Donna, however is in Boise. Having someone close to home would have it’s advantages.
As promised, I have included the first ten pages of the manuscript here. The next step will be to polish the 200 pages I’ve written so far, edit them down and really put flesh to them. These pages represent the first half of the rough draft. The part where foundation is laid, characters are introduced and defined and where the plots and subplots begin to get really interesting. Once this part is nailed down the fun really begins. The adventure of Sam and his brothers as they flee from their abusive home in search of their parents.
The day had been cloudy. Sam remembered the smell of the first raindrops hitting the hot pavement on that summer afternoon. He was with his mother. Funny how he could remember the smell of the rain and the feel of his hand in hers but he couldn’t remember what she looked like. For a moment, he felt the subtle satisfaction of affection. Of being adored, tickled and caressed in a way that was foreign to him now and as distant as the small glimpses of his memory. He remembered talking to the man that day in line at the supermarket. How it was the first time he could recall being afraid of a grown-up. His mother didn’t sense his fear, instead, she tried to coax him out of his shyness by helping him hold up three fingers to tell the man his age.
The rest of the day was a blur. He couldn’t remember the name of the grocery store, the name of the street, the location of the house where he lived or the name of his mother. He knew her more intimately than he had known anyone, except for her name. To him, she was Mama.
His attempts at remembering the details his old life always ended in frustration and anguish. The last clear memory Sam had of that place in time was the horrible night he was taken from his room by the man in the grocery store. The sheriff he now referred to as his father. He recalled being awoken by strong hands that clutched him tightly, nearly suffocating him. He remembered how they bent him over, crushing his lungs, holding his nose and mouth and how swiftly they carried him down the hall and out the back door while his parents slept.
He had been drugged and lay in a dreamless sleep for the first few hours of his abduction. When He began to stir, he was sick to his stomach. He felt heavy and strange. He was not asleep but not awake, either. Crazy with panic and fear, he was unable to cry out for help. It was dark and the rhythmic buzzing vibration told him he was in motion. He started to cry and felt the air rush from his nose. His mouth had been taped shut and his hands were bound together under his knees. His leg throbbed and felt like it was on fire. When he felt vomit come up from his stomach, he swallowed hard but not before some escaped from his nose. He had wet himself and felt diarrhea run into his underwear. He was helpless to control his body and didn’t understand what was happening.
The vehicle swayed slightly, slowed and came to a stop. He heard a clanking noise and then smelled the fumes from gasoline. Suddenly, a blinding light filled the space and he felt his pupils constrict in pain. The man stole a peek at him. With piercing blue eyes and a stern voice, the man told him that he should not make a sound. He said his mother was in the front seat and he would kill her if Sam so much as farted. He cried, stifling his sobs as the man replaced the cover to the opening and left him in the darkness once again.Thinking back, Sam knew it was a miracle he survived the endless trip to Utah where he now lived.
When the truck finally came to a stop, he remembered hearing the man talking to a woman. His mother! She’s alive! He thought. But the voice he heard was not his mother’s voice. It was deep and brash. Delilah was her name. He could hear excitement in her voice when she asked to see her son.
A large, wooden box in the back of the pick up truck was disguised as a dishwasher. The man pulled him from the crate after two days en route to the ranch just outside of Price, Utah.It was dark outside and the air was cool and dry. The man reached in and clutched him. His strong hands pulled Sam from the box, cut the tape and ties with a pocket knife and stood him up in front of the woman. Then the man reached into his pocket for a cigarette and placed it between his lips. Sam’s legs gave way and he fell down on to the dirt driveway.
“He’s probably ready to eat something by now.” The man said to the woman as he lit his cigarette. In the dim light from the porch Sam could see that she was pretty, blond and curvy. She wore sparkly jewelry and looked like someone he might have seen on TV. She scooped her new little boy up into her arms and noticed his soiled pajamas.
“Oh, my poor baby!” she cooed in a thick, southern drawl. She smelled of strong perfume and alcohol. Her grip was firm and determined, not at all gentle like his mother’s. She looked at the man and a smile creased her face. He smiled back at her knowingly and blew a plume of smoke into the air.
“He’s perfect!” She said. She took him away into the house and down the hallway. She opened the bathroom door, sat him on the toilet lid and began filling the bathtub with water. In the bright light of the bathroom, he could see her more clearly. She was tall and thin with a big chest. She wore a dress, not pants, like his mother. She had on a bright red belt tied at her small waist and red shoes that were the same color as her belt. Her expression grew from curious to pure delight as she inspected him carefully. She pulled her fingers through his thick brown hair and spoke directly to him.
“You, are beautiful!” she said. “And I am the lucky lady who gets to be your mama!” She smiled and waited for his response. He looked at her with longing but could not speak.
“It’s okay, Honey. I know you’ve had a long day.” she said, finally. He felt his chin begin to quiver. A single tear made it’s way from the corner of his eye and rolled down his cheek.
“Everything is going to be just fine, little one! No need to cry. I’m going to take good care of you.” She said slipping his t-shirt over his head. She tugged on his bottoms and slid them down past his knees and onto the floor. His thighs were crusty and sore and he stank. He stood there naked, embarrassed and afraid. The tears began to fall in earnest as quiet sobs escaped his lips. She noticed a dark spot on his leg and carefully pulled a smashed bee away from his skin. She pulled him close to her and held him against her large, round bosoms. Her scent made him feel sick.
“Where’s my mama?” he managed to ask, pushing himself away from her chest.
“Your Mama, is right here in front of you, Sugar Bear. That other lady, she wasn’t your real mama. I am gonna be your real mama.” She looked squarely into his eyes and pinched his chin between her fingers, holding his face in front of hers.
“Now”, she said sternly, “There’ll be no more talk about her in this house ever again, you hear me, Son?” She pulled him closer and tightened her grip. “I wouldn’t want to have to punish you so soon after you just got here and all, but I will. You understand?”
He nodded his head as more tears welled in his eyes.
“That’s better. She pulled back slightly and smiled but kept his chin pinched tightly in her hand. “Now, what’s your name, Honey Bee?” She asked softly.
“Saw-yer.” He said with heaving breaths.
“Well, Sawyer”, She looked thoughtfully at him. “Now your name is Samuel. I’ve always loved that name and it fits you to a tee.” She smiled, pleased with her choice. “We’ll call you Sam.” She looked straight into his eyes. “Do you understand?”
His nose was running and tears began falling uncontrollably between his gasps for air. His head pounded in pain. He was exhausted, sick and scared. She pinched his chin again.
“Say, Yes Ma’am.” She demanded. “Its a rule of courtesy you best learn right now.”
“Yes Ma’am” He said hoarsely.
From the corner of his eye, Sawyer saw a figure move past the bathroom door. The woman quickly released his chin and smiled. She looked at him with a gentle, maternal expression, unrolled some toilet paper and wiped his eyes and nose.
“Sam, this is your brother, Jake.” She motioned for the boy to come into the room. “Jake, Honey, shake hands with your little brother. It will be up to you to help him out around here, you hear?” she said to the boy.
When he came into the light, Sam could see that Jake was much taller than he. He had straight blond hair, blue eyes and had a rugged, pouty look.
He held out his hand to Sam who shook it obediently.
“Now, Im just going to get a fresh towel and some ointment for that sting. Jake you stay here with Sam. I’ll be back in a jiffy, okay?” Delilah said.
As soon as she was out of sight, Jake dropped his hand and wiped it on his pajamas. He looked down at Sam and surveyed him thoughtfully from head to toe. Sam felt himself shiver.
“You stink. What’d you do, crap yourself?” He made a face, then folded his arms across his chest for emphasis.
“Lets just be clear, Sam or whatever your name is. I’m seven and I’m the boss of you. Any trouble from you and I’ll kick your ass!” The boy said.
Sam looked up at his new brother who glared back at him. In his fear and torment, Sam was reminded of the words his father spoke to him just days before when an older boy pushed him on the play ground near his house. Son, you never have to be afraid of people. They’re just people like you and me. Sam, in his three year old reasoning, told himself that his dad was right. He determined that whatever happened, he would not be afraid. His resolve lasted exactly one hour.
Chapter 2
He wasn’t sure if it was a wonderful sign or a sign of disaster but what Sam did know as he touched the roll on the ground, was that he hit pay dirt. At first glance, the odd shape in the dust appeared to be the edge of a rolled-up newspaper peeking out from under the bush but as he bent down to look closer, what he saw was a fifty dollar bill wrapped around a very large roll of cash!
Adrenalin pumped into his body with a thud of his heart. He felt a pulse of blood coursing through his veins all the way to his finger tips. A mixture of excitement and fear came over him as he stared down at the nearly unrecognizable edge of the bill.
The abandoned house where he stood had been unkempt with tall grass and overgrown bushes for as long as Sam could remember. Someone had recently mowed the yard and cut the bushes back to reveal a sidewalk that had been hidden for years beneath the overgrowth. He glanced up and saw the for sale sign hanging from the porch. Whoever cut the bushes back didn’t bother to clean out the debris from under them, leaving the ground littered with old drink cups, potato chip bags and other trash.
Sam scooped up the wad of bills. The roll was dusty and faded. The rubber band that held them together was semi-melted, rotted to the outer bill. He quickly stashed the roll in his trouser pocket and pushed it down deep. It was bulky and filled the space in his pants.
He glanced around to see if anyone had noticed him. Across the street a man’s feet stuck out from under his car. A can of oil and a few wrenches were placed on the driveway within his reach. A young girl passed by with her dog, jogging to the beat of the music playing in her earbuds. They were oblivious to him and to the pounding of his heart.
The day looked like any other day, he decided. Except that it wasn’t like any other day for Sam. Not anymore.
Satisfied that he had not been seen, he continued his route from where he attended junior high, to the elementary school where his younger brother would be waiting.
2. Inside Llewyn Davis How awesome was this movie? I mean, first of all, Coen brothers, second of all, amazing music, third of all, THE COSTUMES. I mean, I have never wanted to look or sound more like a 35 year old man than when I saw Oscar Isaac as Llewyn Davis. That look is so spot on, and an honorable mention to Carey Mulligan, too, who actually wears women’s clothes in the film even though I didn’t envy her wardrobe half as much. 
3.Tiny Devotions Mala Beads I have and adore my one and only set of mala beads, made of soft wood and procured at an esoteric bookshop in London for a few pounds. My heart (aaaaand my wallet) vow that these beads are my one and only, but what’s the harm in looking? Tiny Devotions makes a plethora of beautiful and carefully crafted mala beads to delight yogis and jewelry lovers alike. Can I get an Om? :) 
4. “The Curse” by Josh Ritter I love this type of music, deemed by my sister to be “weird acoustic shit”, but how can you not? Just listen to this musical oddity and fall in love- the otherworldly piano, the strange and sad story- plus, whenever else have you listened to a song about a 1,000 year old Pharaoh falling in love with an archaeologist? Listen for a more fantastical day, sure to inspire you to (if nothing less) look twice at the mummies at the Met. ( Listen to it here!) So what do you think? What’s inspiring you this week? :) Remember to be kind to yourself, to others, and to live ever mindfully… Annabel <3
2. Inside Llewyn Davis How awesome was this movie? I mean, first of all, Coen brothers, second of all, amazing music, third of all, THE COSTUMES. I mean, I have never wanted to look or sound more like a 35 year old man than when I saw Oscar Isaac as Llewyn Davis. That look is so spot on, and an honorable mention to Carey Mulligan, too, who actually wears women’s clothes in the film even though I didn’t envy her wardrobe half as much. 
3.Tiny Devotions Mala Beads I have and adore my one and only set of mala beads, made of soft wood and procured at an esoteric bookshop in London for a few pounds. My heart (aaaaand my wallet) vow that these beads are my one and only, but what’s the harm in looking? Tiny Devotions makes a plethora of beautiful and carefully crafted mala beads to delight yogis and jewelry lovers alike. Can I get an Om? :) 
4. “The Curse” by Josh Ritter I love this type of music, deemed by my sister to be “weird acoustic shit”, but how can you not? Just listen to this musical oddity and fall in love- the otherworldly piano, the strange and sad story- plus, whenever else have you listened to a song about a 1,000 year old Pharaoh falling in love with an archaeologist? Listen for a more fantastical day, sure to inspire you to (if nothing less) look twice at the mummies at the Met. ( Listen to it here!) So what do you think? What’s inspiring you this week? :) Remember to be kind to yourself, to others, and to live ever mindfully… Annabel <3