Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Novel approaches end

OK, so I was going to wait to update when I hit the 10K mark, but that seems a bit far off. I'm near 8500 words now. Yes time is running out but the NaNo organizers suggest that people just keep writing even if they aren't going to make the 50K goal.
So I'm plugging away, when I can. This is a very humbling experience as it reveals a lot about one's work habits (I can procrastinate with the best of em), knowledge and memory (mine seems to be fading fast)!
Here's the intro to the story's other main character. Again, typos, grammar, etc. ahead.

Tamalia’s boots clicked and scratched across the concrete in harmony with the jingle of her chain belt. She looked at the well-traveled bus with its peeling Premium Coach Lines logo and rusty bumpers. She thought back to the raggedy flier with the rageddy picture of a raggedy looking camp.
And I hope I brought my tennis shoes, she thought.
“I hope you brought your tennis shoes, Miss Thing,” said the tall thick African American woman walking beside her. Tamalia cocked her head up at her mother – and smirked.
“Should be in here,” Tamalia said and slighted raised the pink canvas duffle bag at her side for her mother to see.
“I saw you put them sandals in there, Tami, but I didn’t…”
“Ma,” Tami interrupted, “I put those in there, too. I got what I need.”
And if not, no big whoop, Tami thought.
“Come on then,” her mother, Regina, acquiesced. “They gonna leave your butt.”
“Not if they know better,” Tamalia said with mock disgust.
“You ain’t never lied,” Regina cooed with her husky voice.
The two looked at each other and giggled.
The thin man was pushing on some bags in the luggage compartment, huffing and puffing with every bend and twist. He put his hands on hips and turned to see Regina and Tamalia. He was struck immediately by the older woman’s height, curly afro and thick-rimmed glasses. Then he glanced over at the 15-year-old gliding up beside her with the a shorter, moister-looking afro and tight pink polo shirt.
“Let me get that for you,” he blurted reaching for Tami’s bag before she had a chance to offer it.
Tami gracefully handed the duffle over. Out the corner of her eye, she saw her mother staring at the young man with her hands on her hips and shaking her head.
“Uh, hmm, where’s a …” the man hemmed and hawed, moving sporadically up and down the length of the bus, cradling the duffle in his arms like a newborn. He finally settled on a spot, snatching an ugly yellow suitcase out. He was nestling the duffle into its holy manger when a smooth voice shouted from behind.
“Wait! Oh, snap. Could I get my Walkman?” Tami asked.
Without hesistation, the young man removed the dufflebag and proffered it to her. She reached in and pulled out the gray/blue rectangle and carefully unwrapped the tangle of black headphone cords. With a smile, she thanked the thin man, who nodded and quickly returned it back to the bus.
“Raash,” a darker brown man called to him from the front of the bus. “You done man? We gots to get rollin’!”
The thin man reached down for the yellow suitcase and almost angrily laid it on top of Tami’s duffle bag.
Walking over to the bus he saw the older man and another smiling at him. He glanced back at the two females. Looked back the guys and whistled softly.
“Maaan, you see, whoo, trying to get a brother in trouble already!”
Tami smiled inwardly and pretended to be completely concerned with attaching her Walkman to her waist. She also surveyed the small group of kids mingling about. And, it seemed, every way she turned she ended up catching the eye of some boy.
Again, she smiled.
“Try to have fun without being too wild,” her mother said to the sky. “And don’t be thinking about them boys, either.”
Again, Tami looked up, amazed at her mother’s perceptiveness. She thought it was a little weird, but loved it.
“Hmm, tell them not to be thinking about me!” she said twisting her full lips.
“Yes, well some things can’t be helped can they?” Regina whispered.
They cracked up again.

1 comment:

boukman70 said...

I wouldn't worry about the procrastination, Comic-Man. These things are supposed to begin with fits and starts. Keep up the good work.