Day 30

Thirty days, 50,224 words. *collapsing into bed*

Day 29

For each day of November, I am going to post an excerpt of the novel I'm working on for the next 30 days through National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). The goal is to reach 50,000 words in 30 days. And, go!

I applied for a job at a metaphysical bookshop on Saturday afternoons. It was a short shift – only four hours in the afternoon, but it was nice to have some extra money. I was hired due to my extensive experience on enlightenment: I had recently finished an autobiography about Shirley McClain and her spiritual journey. 

One of the biggest sellers at the bookstore was crystals. Known for their healing properties, crystals are the transmitters of the metaphysical world - or so I was told. One afternoon, a woman came into the store frantic. She was flushed and told the owner that she needed something to ground her. Ten minutes and $60 later, she left happy and 'grounded' with a quartz crystal pendant around her neck.

I was responsible for answering the phone, and right next to it was a handwritten placard: I’m sorry. Serena is busy giving a reading right now. May I take a message? My boss was paranoid about taking any phone calls as they came in, so she insisted that I take messages for her. She’d call them back at her leisure, all breathy and reassuring. Sometimes I’d eavesdrop on her readings and roll my eyes. She was such a fraud. 

As far as I was concerned, it seemed like bad karma to knowingly take advantage of people like that. I worked there for about five months before I couldn't stand it anymore. My final day there I worked the shop alone and not one person came in – so I slept on the floor behind the counter until it was time to go home.

Day 28

For each day of November, I am going to post an excerpt of the novel I'm working on for the next 30 days through National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). The goal is to reach 50,000 words in 30 days. And, go! 

Every Friday night, my friends and I went to the Rollercade. It was the place to be seen. We skated and socialized to our favorite music. We wore our tightest jeans, tons of eye shadow and our hair was perfectly feathered. We ate food from the snack bar and played video games. 

We’d work up the courage to knock on the DJ’s booth and make a request for our favorite song. There were songs for ‘girls only skate’, couples-only songs (where we looked bored - but secretly hope to get asked to skate) and contests for the fastest skater. 

The people who used rental skates were losers. All of the girls had the boots of their skates decorated with logos of our favorite bands: Van Halen, Scorpions, Aerosmith, Motley Cruё, Black Sabbath, Def Leppard.

If I ever missed out of town or was grounded on a Friday night, I was disconsolate. 

Day 27

For each day of November, I am going to post an excerpt of the novel I'm working on for the next 30 days through National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). The goal is to reach 50,000 words in 30 days. And, go! 

Serena and I often played in the eucalyptus grove behind the apartments, sweeping the dirt and arranging some small toys around a little clearing. 

One afternoon, we brought out some matches and lit a tiny fire with some twigs right there in the dirt. After that, I was obsessed with fire. 

I always had a packet of matches with me so if it looked like something needed to be burned, I was ready. 

Day 26

For each day of November, I am going to post an excerpt of the novel I'm working on for the next 30 days through National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). The goal is to reach 50,000 words in 30 days. And, go! 

My mom ran a childcare program at our grade school called MOMMA, although neither of us can remember what the acronym stood for. The program was child care for low income families and single parents.

It was a wonderful program. There were all kinds of fun and educational things to do: crafts such as macrame, finger painting, knitting, beading, and coloring. There were toys, dress-ups, board games, and a snack time. My mom even offered a cooking class - which was my favorite, because we got to eat whatever we made. One time, she brought in a curling iron to curl all the girls’ hair. I had never had my hair curled before. I looked so different that I cried when I saw my hair in the mirror. 

Because my mom ran the program, I was a bit of a show off. I've heard children like me described as ‘petulant’ - but as far as I’m concerned, it’s just a fancier word for brat. 

Day 25

For each day of November, I am going to post an excerpt of the novel I'm working on for the next 30 days through National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). The goal is to reach 50,000 words in 30 days. And, go! 

Update: I have 5 days left of the challenge and just reached a little under 42,000 words. I am so blown away that I have that much to say about anything. I want to thank my husband for being so wonderfully supportive - and providing many ideas for my story. Almost...done!  

Uncle Lenny was not actually a relative, but an honorary title given to one of my mom’s closest friends. When I was too young to understand about such things as homosexuality, I was insanely jealous of his relationship with my mom. What I hadn't realized is that he was one of the few people who she could count on. He was good to us - better than most of our real family was. 

Once our car broke down in the middle of nowhere on the way back from visiting relatives. She had it towed to a mechanic who spent the better part of two days working on the car while we stayed at a hotel overnight. By the time the car was drivable, the cost in repairs was three times what my mom could afford. 

She ended up signing the title over to the mechanic and they called it a wash for what was owed, and my mom sat down and cried. We had no money and no car - and were stranded about 7 hours from home. She called the only person that she could think of to help: Uncle Lenny. He drove 4 hours to come and get us, and another 7 hours to take us back home.

Lenny lived in San Francisco, and had a gorgeous southern drawl – although I forget where he was from originally. I adored him because he frequently cussed. He always treated me like an adult and never talked down to me - but I was afraid when we visited his house. My memories of his neighborhood were that it was grey and nondescript - so if I was walking around, I might easily get lost. The inside of his home was beautiful with fancy rugs and leather chairs and exotic tapestries.

Lenny took to calling me The Starving Virgin, because I was always hungry and, well…the other part is obvious.  All kinds of hilarity would ensue every time he addressed me as such. He contracted HIV/AIDS when it was an epidemic in the 80’s. It was before there were medicines to help those afflicted avoid many of the fatal illnesses common to the disease. Lenny was a very large man, both in height as well as girth, and the disease ate him alive. It was a terrible way to die. 

Day 24

For each day of November, I am going to post an excerpt of the novel I'm working on for the next 30 days through National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). The goal is to reach 50,000 words in 30 days. And, go!

Both Lottie and Penny bred horses. During the year that I was riding for them, two of their mares were due shortly. I was excited to see the new babies. 

The Arabian mare had her foal first – a pretty black colt. He was very sweet. Penny’s pony delivered three weeks later and the size differential between the two foals was crazy; Penny’s newest addition was a precious little filly that was so tiny, she could run under the lowest rail of the ring. She would run full speed around the ring with her little tail high in the air, whinnying and darting back and forth under the fence. She was a hard act to follow, and soon Lottie’s colt was forgotten. 

One day, I was mucking his corral while he quietly watched me. He had been weaned a few weeks before and seemed lonely. I felt bad for him. On an impulse, I kind of pranced toward forward, angling my shoulder toward him as I approached.  

He responded to my play posture immediately, rearing up and jumping towards me. I was surprised, and also afraid that he’d actually hurt me, so I put up my hands and gestured to him to calm down. He quieted right away, but it made me realize how play is a universal language. This was one of those moments in my life that I always wished I could watch an instant-replay of.