Headphones was an experiment, a story written in "snapshots", a serial, a comic in word form-- call it what you will. It ran for one year plus one day-- January 1st of 2015 to January 1st of 2016. It was the story of a group of friends who took in a damaged girl and helped her find herself. But on the way, she helped them fill the holes in their own lives. I've pulled it now with the hopes of rewriting it into a book. Each day was matched with a music video and each month's mixes are still here. So if you've stumbled in, enjoy the music, and hopefully I'll be able to post updates occasionally!

Tuesday, July 11, 2017

July CampNaNo Diary

    Camp is well under way. This is something different for me, going into writing something after only thinking about it for a week. Usually, I give myself months to develop the characters and let the story grow before I start typing, but this one is happening in a whole different way. I'm letting it happen as I type, except I'm seeing flashes of what's coming and I'm taking lots of notes. Unfortunately, my writing time is limited for at least another week because of Real Life. I'm tracking okay, but I purposely kept my Camp goal low for that very reason. I'm definitely feeling more of a connection with Reese and Jordan than I did Cherry and Ben, and I still wonder if it's because I did it in dual 1st person. I really felt like it bogged me down. This one is dual 3rd person and it's moving smoother. Anyway, I'm tracking and last week's word count was 3585 (still not where I would like it to be, but I'll get there!)
Excerpt from this weeks work:
Reese studied the man on his couch. He was sleeping on his side, rolled up with his knees practically to his chest with a crocheted lap blanket tucked up over his shoulders. He wondered why he was camped out here instead of in Roger’s bedroom. He would have thought a bed would be more comfortable than that old broken down couch. On second thought, considering his brother’s idea of housework, maybe it wasn’t so surprising.
Still, coming home after being in California for the last six months to find a stranger who looked exactly like the annoying surfer boys that had swarmed Santa Barbara had been the cherry on top of an exhausting day of airplanes and airports and moody TSA agents.  No, he took that back. It was a close second to Laurie showing up uninvited. He should have kicked her out, but the moment her hand found his zipper, he was gone. She really was rather talented.
Jordan’ tan and sun-bleached hair suggested he spent his days outside. But he didn’t have the muscle definition that he’d noticed with the surfers. Reese had the feeling there was an interesting story asleep on his couch, but the only one he cared about at the moment was the how and why the kid was here. Knowing Roger, there was a good chance it wasn’t legal. Roger might be the oldest by 14 months, but somehow Reese had always been the responsible one. “Rise and shine, pretty boy, we gotta talk.” Goldilocks last night and pretty boy this morning? It was beginning to feel like a theme. He’d need to watch that.
Jordan woke a second time to find Reese standing over him. “Is your girlfriend gone?” he asked as he looked towards the hallway.
“She’s not my girlfriend. And yes, she’d gone.”
Jordan sat up and arched his back with his arms over his head as he stretched, giving a small twist to pop his back. His shirt rode up to show a concave belly and a surprising amount of lower stomach fuzz. He pushed hair that might have been a neat undercut at one time, but now was just a mess, out of his face in an unconscious gesture. “Sure sounded like it,” he smirked. When Reese drew back with a scowl, Jordan blushed. “I wasn’t trying to listen, bro, but the walls here are thin, and that bitch was loud.”
“Hey, show Laurie some respect.”
“What? You said she isn’t your girlfriend.”
“Don’t care, she’s still a person,” Reese growled threateningly.
“Yeah, whatever. I need coffee. And then I need to go to town.”
Reese stood with his hands on his hips as he watched the young man move around the kitchen, rattling on about Tammy’s Diner as he started the coffee and dug around in the refrigerator for bread and margarine. “Toast?” he asked as he held the loaf up.
“I don’t need you to make me breakfast. I need to know what you’re doing in my house. What the fuck has my big brother done now?”
“Yeah. So, I was playing cards with Roger.” Jordan took a sip from his mug and sighed in appreciation of the bitter brew and then turned his attention back to the broad-shouldered man glaring at him. His voice grew sharp as he simply stated, “He lost.”

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