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!

Monday, November 6, 2017

NaNoWriMo Challenge 2017 Has Begun

     I wasn't sure, even on the morning of November 1 if I was going to do the challenge this year. But I told myself "just start and see where it goes." I'm having a difficult time sticking with it, but even on my worst day, I did 700+ words, so even if I don't make the 50K goal, I'll have a good chunk of the book written by the end of the month. If I'm happy with the first one, hopefully, the other two will fall into place. I ended at 8110 last night, which means I'm a little short of my goal of 8333. I probably would have made it except I had a horrid headache that cut into everything I had planned for the day.

     I'm happy with it, though. I have found, oddly, that I've put more of Mark in the first chapter than I did in the original. When I first started writing Headphones in high school, he was meant to be the main character partnered with Jessie, but I somehow lost that when I was writing the serial. Not sure what'll happen this time around, but hopefully I will get into his POV a little more in this version. So here we go with week two!


Voices from the foyer pulled him (Mark) out of his reflections and he glanced at the clock. Almost midnight. Surely they could pick this up tomorrow. Or better yet, take tomorrow off and pick it up Monday--at the office. Without asking the others, Mark shuffled papers, gathering them and shoving them into their corresponding folders. The women shrugged at each and followed his lead. No one said anything until Lenny walked in to lean against the island that dominated the middle of the room.
“Elinor with you?” Honey asked.
“No, why?”
“Oh. I just thought you were talking to someone when you came in.”
Lenny grinned. “A Priest, a Rabbi and a half-starved kid walked into the bar tonight.”
After a good 20 second pause, Mark prompted Lenny with “And?”
“And, what?”
“What’s the punchline?”
“No joke. A Priest and a Rabbi were in the bar tonight. Then a half-starved kid came in. She looks like she’s been living off the street.”
“And you are telling us this because…?”
“She’s in the living room, bunked out on the couch. I got her one of Elinor’s nightgowns. I figure we could get her settled in one of the third floor bedrooms tomorrow. Oh, and we’ll have to do something about clothes. All she has is what she’s wearing.”
Mark, taking a deep breath, and knowing he was going to regret asking, asked anyway. “Why did you bring her here?”
“Had to do something with her.”
“Yes, but we’re not a home for wayward strays.”
“She belongs here.”
“And I suppose your ESP told you that.”
Lenny shook his head in exasperation. Why they insisted in perpetuating that old joke, he could never understand. He was just good at reading people, that was all. And occasionally he knew who was on the other side of the door, or who the phone was for before it rang. He was just intuitive. He didn’t care what anyone said. Not even Elinor. While it was true her great-grandmother had immigrated in the early 1900s from Hungary with her family when she was only a girl, it didn’t make her an expert. Even if she had her own gifts. And seemed to have a talent at reading the Tarot cards she’d inherited from her grandmother. And yeah, she’d taken care of the ghost that had terrorized the little basement bathroom, but that had nothing to do with him.   
“No, listen. She got up on stage with Mick and just started playing with him. She’s amazing and he wants her in the band.”
“Oh, well, okay. If that’s what Mick wants.” He didn’t even try to hide his sarcasm.

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