Hey, brilliant writers…it’s Work in Progress Wednesday!
I do have some new blog followers, so let me explain that on the first Wednesday of every month, I share a snippet of a work in progress and invite you to do the same.
Occasionally, comments are slow to load. If you’re not seeing your comment appear right away, copy and save your writing so you don’t lose it, and then refresh your browser; it may show up! (But if you accidentally double post, don’t sweat it; I’ll just delete the duplicate comment for you.)
Here are the WIP Wednesday rules!
•This is really just for works in progress, so don’t post excerpts for work that’s already published or up for pre-order.
•Keep your excerpt to 400 words or fewer. If you post a longer piece, I may trim it.
•Don’t post scenes with gore or adult content. You wouldn’t think that children and teenagers would read blogs, but sometimes, they do! Grown-up language and innuendo are both fine.
•Feel free to link to your author social media account, author website, or blog, but don’t like to work for sale.
•Don’t offer suggestions or criticism to other writers. We’re often sharing work that’s not ready for critique. However, saying something kind will bring you good writing luck!
This excerpt is from my romcom that centers on the making of a made-for-TV Christmas movie. I am freshly inspired now that I’ve been to an actual movie set like this! In this scene, my heroine and many cast and crew members arrive at what will be their accommodations during the shoot. Luke is the leading man who regrets agreeing to do the movie.
We pulled into a parking lot in front of what looks like a tiny train station. A little ways behind it, a train engine stands on patch of gravel.
The driver keeps the engine running. “Is this the right place? Do you want to check the map again?”
“This is it!” I say brightly. “The Whistle Stop Lodge. I mean, there’s a train right there, and it’s very…station-y.”
They all stare at the place, dumbfounded.
Jessica says, “This looks…small.”
It does. I thought I reserved all ten rooms. Where are they? Is this a hostel packed with bunk beds?
We get out of the van and get our suitcases and then they follow me to the front door, like I’m the teacher on a field trip. We troop into a wood-paneled lobby, and I put on a huge smile as I approach the gray-haired man behind the desk. He’s dressed like a conductor from some past era, with a flat-topped cap.
“Hi!” I say. “I’m Betty Bailey, from Heart and Hope Channel, and I think you have reservations for us?”
He’s already nodding. “Yes, we’ve got a car for each of you.”
“I’m sorry, a car?”
His eyes light up. “Each room is a refurbished vintage train car! Mostly cabooses, but a few boxcars. You didn’t see them behind the engine out there?”
“Ohhh,” Alan says, as I answer, “No, it was dark.”
“I’ve loved trains since I was a boy,” he declares. “My wife and son and I built this inn, car by car. It’s my dream come to life.”
I want to hug him. This is so sweet. And I’m a little jealous. How often do you meet someone who made their dream come true?
“Coffee is available twenty-four seven in the dining car,” he declares. “And tomorrow we’ll have our folk music open mic there.”
“That’s neat,” Alan says warmly, though nobody else looks enthused. “Jessica, why don’t you check in first?”
As Jessica speaks with the conductor, Luke mutters under his breath, “This would be a great setting for a horror movie.”
I grit my teeth. It’s not like there’s a Four Seasons in this neck of the literal woods.
“I think it’s more Wes Anderson,” I murmur. The only murder here will be me murdering him with kindness. I add sweetly, “But I know this must be intimidating for someone as sheltered as you.”
Do you feel like sharing an excerpt? Go ahead, in a comment below!
If you prefer, you can also just tell us about how your writing is going, or about your plans for the rest of the summer, or anything else! Thanks so much for stopping by, and have a great rest of your week!
Bryn, I love this excerpt from your book. And that last line about being sheltered makes me love Betty already.
Here’s my excerpt from a paranormal romance:
“Why don’t you come for the weekend in a couple weeks? I’m sure Mika would love meeting both of you.”
Cara hoped Neil would agree to meet his mother’s new boyfriend. He couldn’t expect Laura to remain single for the rest of her life. She studied him and rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand. “Should we do it?”
He huffed out a breath. “Okay. I want to meet the man you’re dating.”
Laura raised her brows. “I never got to meet any of the girls you were dating.”
“That’s because none of them were permanent.” He stared into Cara’s eyes, his expression filled with love, melting her heart. “None of them was Cara.”
“Cara was always special to you. Even Savannah noticed it.” Her eyes glazed as if she was seeing something inside herself. “She said that someday when your age difference no longer mattered that you two would find each other again.”
Cara glanced at Neil with wide eyes, then focused on Laura. “Mom knew Neil and I would end up together?”
“Mom, you never told me that,” Neil said at the same time. “Do you know how many nights I tossed and turned thinking Cara was either dead or being tortured? You could have saved me years of pain.”
She could’ve been tortured and they still got together, but Cara wouldn’t tell Neil that.
Laura pushed her chair back, circled behind Cara, and gave her son a hug. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t sure if it was wishful thinking or a premonition. When she said it, Cara was still home, so you two finding each other didn’t even make sense. By the time Cara vanished, I’d forgotten about it. I only remembered this morning when you called to tell me you and Cara were together.” She hugged him again. “And I’m delighted.”
Neil grinned at Cara. “I’m pretty happy about it myself.”
Interesting setting! I wonder if there is such a place!
I love the idea of the rooms being refurbished train cars! That sounds so cool!
Here is an excerpt from my most recent chapter. In it, Hildreth encounters a vampire in an alley….
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“Filthy hunter.”
“Tsk. You have no idea how many vampires call me that. Couldn’t you be a little more creative?” The city lights disguised the hunter’s hair color. His eye color was a mystery as well. But the shape of his face…
The vampire laid his hand above his heart and sat up to get a better look. “I know you.”
“Not likely. I’ve never met you before.”
He frowned at the man’s dry wood and raspberry jam scent. “No, I’ve never met you before either. I would remember that scent. But your face….” The hunter was no longer holding his weapon, but that didn’t mean he was no longer a danger. The vampire kept his heart shielded as he stood. “That face….”
The hunter’s shoulders tensed up. If he were a cat, his fur would be bristling. “What about my face?”
“The shape of your eyes. The angle of your jawline.”
The hunter’s expression changed.
There is uncertainty in his eyes. Tension.
Fear.
The vampire’s frown lifted. “That fear….yes. I know it. I’ve seen it before.”
“Of course you have, vampire.” The fear in his eyes was there in his voice as well. “I’m sure you’ve seen it many times in your victim’s eyes.”
“I have. Yes. But there is one. Only one that I’m thinking about. I remember…her.”
Love to read all these excerpts of WIP! They all encourage me to keep at it–thanks.
Here’s my 400– from a mystery story I’m writing about NYC East Village art scene in 1980s.
…
“I created a monster,” DC muttered as she took the last swallow of her beer. In ’82, when she landed in New York Avenue A and 11th Street sported kids breakdancing –while their brothers stood catty corner, selling weed and keeping watch. Not tonight. Tonight, there were only long black cars depositing yuppies in bespoke suits looking for the next new thing.
DC pulled her own natural auburn hair into a high ponytail, the scrunchy shining gold against it. New York’s infamous Indian summer was here—so it would be hot in Ronnie’s gallery. DC wasn’t a tall girl and she wasn’t thin. ‘Healthy’ is what the Puerto Rican boys said. It was a compliment. DC adjusted the patent belt on her favorite polka-dot swing dress –actual thrift store vintage, not boutique like some of the outfits she’d seen at the two openings she’d covered earlier. Ronnie Friedman Gallery was her third.
DC smiled down at the polka dots, winking on their black background. She loved this dress–it made her feel ready for anything.
But was she really ready for this crowd?
“DC,” a rumbling bass voice interrupted her thoughts. “What a mob.”
DC turned toward the speaker, a very tall, very blonde, Viking type in de rigueur black jeans and tee shirt. “Hi, Ryker. Nice to see you too. And you and Lyla should be thanking me —it’s your art in there.”
Ryker lit a cigarette and stood stock still, glaring at her with ice green eyes. An unnerving stare–if DC didn’t know he was steeling himself to glad-hand all those uptown collectors. They were all here to buy a painting from the hottest artist in the East Village: Ryker vanderLunt. In the flesh.
“Your review did this” no accusation in his voice. He took a drag and made air quotes with long fingers. “Refreshingly beautiful with something to say.”
“Honestly, Ryker, I was talking about you –not your work.” DC retorted with a wink. “Come on, let’s brave the mongrel hordes. I see pink hair and electric blue—must be Lyla in there. And, I hope Ronnie has something stronger than beer.”
Ryker crushed out his cigarette with one fierce stomp, and in they went.
Later, after Ronnie had been found sprawled on his gallery floor, his head bashed in, and the Post splashed “Alphabet City Atrocity” across every headline–later, DC, Ryker and Lyla would remember the crowds, the pounding beat and the smarmy guys in suits.
@jfalcofiction
Congratulations Bryn! So fun to be on the set and to also be writing another book! A hotel in a train! So many possibilities! My best to you!
I’m writing again! This scene is a first draft.
I am writing historical fiction about Eliza Blight. This scene comes immediately after the explosion of Red Canyon mine number 5 at Almy, Wyoming 1895. In my research I came across an eye witness account written by a 10-year-old girl named Lois. This scene is part of the integration of that letter into Eliza’s story.
Eliza rushed to the child who stood eyes wide with terror, hands clasped to mouth.
“No, oh no!” Eliza caught her up in her arms. “Lois!”
She saw it! What I barely comprehended, in my wild flight behind a runaway horse, she saw!
“Come with me. We’ll find your aunt. We are going to the school first. And then we’ll take you home.”
Lois said nothing, but stepped into the wagon and sat staring straight ahead.
Eliza’s daughters rushed out of the building at her arrival and embraced her.
Their frightened words rushed out. “We felt the explosion! Mr. Harding told us to get away from the windows!”
“People were throwing rocks at our school!”
“That was rocks from the mine – from the explosion.”
“Is Papa dead like Will?” Bessy’s voice was strained for one so little.
Eliza hastened to put her daughters at ease. “No. Old Dan took me right to him.” She didn’t elaborate on the journey or on her present fear. “Papa said to take you home.”
“People were screaming and crying.” Lizzy wailed.
“Yes. It’s very, very sad.”
“Can we pray for them?”
“Please do.”
Muri climbed into the wagon and sat beside her friend. “Mama, what’s wrong with Lois?”
“She saw what you heard and felt.”
Muri put her arm around Lois.
~*~
Eliza walked Lois toward the door of her home. Quietly she spoke to the trembling girl. “Nothing will take it away, but the best thing you can do is to write about it.”
Lois spoke for the first time, “It won’t be lovely, Mrs. Blight.”
“No, it won’t, but it will help your heart. Will you do that, Lois?”
The girl nodded.
This is an excerpt from my ongoing novel “Her Hidden Star.” I took Julie in a different direction and it’s created some really great stuff. I actually wrote this scene ahead. It’s about halfway through the book.
Violet gave a gummy smile as if agreeing. Julie opened the diaper bag and took out a dark pink knit sleeper, a pack of wipes, and a stack of diapers.
Violet chewed on Lammy’s ear while Julie stripped off Violet’s T-shirt and pants, leaving her to sit in a diaper that smelled like it needed to be changed quickly. Julie laid her on her back and unfastened the diaper. It was more than a little damp. Before she could reach for a diaper, her phone rang. Harrison.
She pressed the speaker button. “Hey, babe.”
“How’s my girl?” Harrison asked.
Raising a child on my own who was neglected by her grandmother. You?
Julie took off Violet’s diaper and rolled it up, securing it back together with the original tabs. ”Good. Just settling in for the evening. How’s filming?”
”Good,” Harrison said. “Joanie and I had a really great fight scene earlier today. That’s all I can say.”
Julie unbuttoned a dark pink sleeper. “You and Joanie do fight well together. Almost as good as your romantic scenes.”
”That one is later tonight. Or tomorrow. We’re a little behind today.”
Julie slipped the sleeper over Violet’s arms and gently folded her legs into the leg holes. “Are you all ever on time?”
”Hey, we’re not always behind,” Harrison playfully joked. “We at least make it to airtime.”
Julie zipped the sleeper up and picked up Violet who rubbed her eyes. Julie eased herself off the bed and carried Violet to her playpen.
“Do you get to go home soon?” Julie asked. She gently laid Violet on her back.
“If we ever get this scene done.”
Shayley’s voice interrupted. “Hey, Harry. Who you talking to?”
“Julie. You want to say hi?”
”No. I want to run lines with you.”
Harrison returned to the call. “I’m sorry babe. I guess we’re starting up again. Call you tomorrow?”
”Yeah. Have a good night. Love you.”
”Harrison! Let’s go!,” Shayley said. “You’ll talk to her tomorrow.”
”Love you.” The call abruptly ended.
Julie looked down at Violet, fighting to keep her eyes open. Her tiny hands curled into little fists and her eyes instantly closed. Her body relaxed into a sweet baby cocoon. Julie rubbed her back.
“We’ll get this figured out, baby,” Julie promised. “This won’t be forever.”
Violet gave a gummy smile as if agreeing. Julie opened the diaper bag and took out a dark pink knit sleeper, a pack of wipes, and a stack of diapers.
Violet chewed on Lammy’s ear while Julie stripped off Violet’s T-shirt and pants, leaving her to sit in a diaper that smelled like it needed to be changed quickly. Julie laid her on her back and unfastened the diaper. It was more than a little damp. Before she could reach for a diaper, her phone rang. Harrison.
She pressed the speaker button. “Hey, babe.”
“How’s my girl?” Harrison asked.
Raising a child on my own who was neglected by her grandmother. You?
Julie took off Violet’s diaper and rolled it up, securing it back together with the original tabs. ”Good. Just settling in for the evening. How’s filming?”
”Good,” Harrison said. “Joanie and I had a really great fight scene earlier today. That’s all I can say.”
Julie unbuttoned a dark pink sleeper. “You and Joanie do fight well together. Almost as good as your romantic scenes.”
”That one is later tonight. Or tomorrow. We’re a little behind today.”
Julie slipped the sleeper over Violet’s arms and gently folded her legs into the leg holes. “Are you all ever on time?”
”Hey, we’re not always behind,” Harrison playfully joked. “We at least make it to airtime.”
Julie zipped the sleeper up and picked up Violet who rubbed her eyes. Julie eased herself off the bed and carried Violet to her playpen.
“Do you get to go home soon?” Julie asked. She gently laid Violet on her back.
“If we ever get this scene done.”
Shayley’s voice interrupted. “Hey, Harry. Who you talking to?”
“Julie. You want to say hi?”
”No. I want to run lines with you.”
Harrison returned to the call. “I’m sorry babe. I guess we’re starting up again. Call you tomorrow?”
”Yeah. Have a good night. Love you.”
”Harrison! Let’s go!,” Shayley said. “You’ll talk to her tomorrow.”
”Love you.” The call abruptly ended.
Julie looked down at Violet, fighting to keep her eyes open. Her tiny hands curled into little fists and her eyes instantly closed. Her body relaxed into a sweet baby cocoon. Julie rubbed her back.
“We’ll get this figured out, baby,” Julie promised. “This won’t be forever.”
The line about raising a child on her own is supposed to be in italics as it’s a private thought but it didn’t transfer over.