Back to the Book

It's a rainy day in New York City, so I decided to write a novel. Literally.

Actually, those of you who know me know I've been working on a novel for a long time, or more accurately, I worked on a novel a long time ago. It has been in storage hibernating (hopefully not fermenting) for a little over a year.

But now that I'm no longer a working momma I've determined to pick it back up. I made a new revision of the first chapter this morning, an excerpt of which I'll include below.

Feel free to read it, comment, and give CONSTRUCTIVE criticism, but if you're just going to comment to tell me I'm a terrible writer and will never make it as a young adult author, you're welcome to keep your comments to yourself.


Here it is, the beginning of my book:

Angela sat on a bench facing the school counselor’s office and stared at the door. School was out for the day, and there were only a couple of students left roaming the halls. If she waited too much longer a custodian or someone would walk by and tell her to go home. Angela didn’t know how long the counselor stayed after school, but she hadn’t seen the woman with the brassy bouffant leave yet, and she had been sitting here for about a half an hour.

I should just go home. Ms. Jenkins probably has super important things to do—like practice her defense for when someone figures out she has her own personal hole in the ozone layer. Angela almost smiled as a mental image of the Green Police storming the school to take down Ms. Jenkins and her eco-aggressive hair played out in her mind.

But she still couldn’t make herself get up walk away. This was too . . . big.

Actually, Ms. Jenkins would probably love this. I bet this is the most action she’s seen in this high school in years; something juicier than an eating disorder or another cheerleader getting pregnant. She’d be in heaven if she knew. Bet she’d call a press conference or try to get on Oprah or something to talk about how she singlehandedly saved a poor, misused girl from a life of degradation and crime, and exposed an evil conspiracy to corrupt today’s youth. She might write a book with one of those glamour shots of herself on the back. Of course, she’d have to be looking really concerned about the underprivileged, troubled teens she rescues in the glamour shot.

But as much as Angela would love to hand Ms. Jenkins her big break to fame and stardom, this was bigger than Ms. Jenkins’ aspirations. Or her hair. This was about Mindy.

Mindy was Angela’s best friend. Actually, Mindy was her only friend, and if Angela walked into the counselor’s office and told what she knew, Mindy would never forgive her and maybe even get taken away. Then Angela would be alone again.

Mindy had moved to Angela’s school at the beginning of freshman year. She was shy like Angela, or at least quiet, and she was really big too. They became friends when they had gym class together and were always the last ones to finish running the mile, although Mindy always blamed it on her asthma.

Mindy was Angela’s salvation. When they were alone she made Angela laugh so hard that the muscles in her stomach and throat would ache, and even better than that, now Angela had someone to eat lunch with at school instead of hiding in the girls’ bathroom like she had done for most of middle school.

Angela closed her eyes. This really is none of my business. Mindy’s a big girl, she can do what she wants. The only reason she even told me is because she trusts me. Just forget about it and go home.

But Angela knew she couldn’t forget about it. She had been not forgetting about it the whole weekend. She thought about how all this had started, at least for her, when Mindy all of a sudden had the flashy iPod she had been lusting after for weeks.

“Whoa,” Angela said turning it over in her hands, admiring the sleek lines “How did you get the money for this? Did your dad send it to you as a really late birthday present or something?”
“Um, no.” Mindy brushed her hair out of her eyes and looked away. They were sitting on the floor of her bedroom, and she seemed suddenly intrigued by something invisible in the carpet.
“Well where did you get it? Did your mom get some crazy good discount?” Angela couldn’t really picture Mindy’s mom buying anything so expensive for her. They were always tight on money.
“It was a gift, okay?” Mindy grabbed the iPod back and looked at it in her hands.
“From who?” Angela couldn’t remember Mindy ever mentioning any rich grandmas, or anyone who sent gifts before. Mindy didn’t look at Angela for a minute. She was acting kinda weird, it made Angela nervous. A thought occurred to Angela; She didn’t steal it did she?
“Ang, can you keep a secret? I mean promise not to tell anyone?” Mindy’s voice was mock-confidential and whispery, like there were suddenly plying a hilarious game of truth or dare, but she still didn’t look up at Angela. She was staring at the iPod.
“Yeeaaah,” Angela answered slowly. This was definitely weird, suddenly Angela wasn’t so sure she wanted to know where it came from.



That's all for now. I know it still needs work; I'm actually feeling kind of rusty after having not touched this story in so long. Hopefully I can get back in my groove soon.