Walking the Plank, or A bit from my current YA WIP (YABbootcamp challenge)

Tonight's post is a bit scary to post---
BUT I firmly believe in stepping out and doing what drives you despite your fears (and, since we ask students to do this ALL.THE.TIME, I think it is important that we walk our talk, too.)

As part of my YABbootcamp challenge, I am posting a small portion of my current WIP (work in progress) on my blog tonight.

I'd love some feedback on it.

Background: this is the opening of my YA historical novel.  The story moves through time a bit as different strands of it are told from different points of view. It is 1943 in this chapter.

One of the most exciting things to me about working on this story, in particular, is that it combines several of my loves--history, genealogy, and writing.  This book will be somewhat loosely based on my grandfather's family.

I've included a photo of my great-aunt Jackie.  Wasn't she a beauty? She is the real-life just older sister of my character Celia---and I imagine Celia looked very much like this, although to date I have not been able to locate a photo---still working on that!

My daddy is a grey-eyed devil.  I swear he is.

Lord, but I can see him there on the front porch watching me come home from Bud and Neva’s.  He stands, immovable and solid. I can’t see those eyes from here, of course, but I feel them as they watch me.  

Daddy’s face is a mask; his eyes are wet stones, revealing little of his mood, his mouth unsmiling.

This isn’t good---most times, if he’s laughing you’re safe.  If he’s drinking, he’s not laughing—and no good can come of it.  I hear some folks are happy drunks.  Not my daddy.  Not happy at all.

The near constant worry that I mostly manage to keep pushed to the back of my mind tugs at me now making it harder to breathe.  Sometimes the weight of it is just so heavy that I can hardly bear it.  Now, despite the utter gorgeousness of this beautiful spring day I am suddenly left low and worn and weary.  

It happens just like that.  One second you’re whistling a happy tune, feeling just fine, and the next you’re looking at the unsmiling face of a mean old man filled to the gills with cheap gin and bitter frustration.

When you live with a drunk, and when that drunk is your daddy, you learn a second language.  A language without any words.  A language of signals that give clues to the madness around you. Clues to what level that madness has descended at any given time.

 If you’re one of the lucky ones, this keeps you safe; mostly.  If you’re one of the lucky ones.

YAB Spring Writing Bootcamp 2014 (SOL 2014 Day 16)

I'm late to the party, but have just joined in the YA Buccanneers Spring Writing Bookcamp (March-May) and couldn't be more excited!  So March will be filled with not ONE, but TWO amazing writing challenges.

I've been added to Team Denali (the Great Ones!) and although I've come in late, my team captain has been incredibly helpful and supportive.  I actually wrote nearly 1000 words on my YA novel-in-progress today during a word sprint she posted via Twitter!  My goal is to actually reach that magic 1000 number for a total word count today.

Yes, writing (finishing) a novel is important to me (publishing one--or several!--- someday is also on my bucket list) so moving forward in my goal is lovely, but what really makes this is extraordinarily valuable to me is that when I'm pumped about writing, I can pass that energy along to my students and colleagues who also write.  We grow stronger by boosting one another up.  THIS is the type of competition I enjoy--the kind that makes us ALL better. In fact, the power of these challenges is so apparent to me now that I intend to create some challenges in the same vein specifically for my students---for both reading AND writing.

Keep reading.  Keep writing.  Keep moving forward!

edited to add this great bootcamp BINGO that outlines some of my goals!  

a huge thank you to Heidi Sinnett for all the inspiration!