I apologize for missing my posting earlier this week. Things have been a little crazy around here. So I'm just going to give a quick update on where I'm at.
I finished a second (or is it third?) review of the manuscript, tightened up some plot points and rewrote the ending. The ending still needs some work, but I'll get back to that.
I've decided I need to write-out a character from the original draft. She felt like a 2D stereotype and didn't add much to the story. In fact, she wasn't physically in most of the story, usually appearing only through phone conversations. I figured out a way to replace her, so I'm going to do it. But that means a lot of revision, and one more pass on the manuscript before Beta.
The new ending also beefed up another character for me, and added a new dimension to the story that I have to scatter throughout the manuscript. I think it will be much, much better this way.
All of these changes have really cut down the size of the manuscript. I'm down to about 60,000 words, which is a little short for a novel. If I continue to slice and dice, it could go even lower than that (and might be better for it). I'm considering calling it a novella now instead of a novel. There are issues with that, of course, including that novella's are often difficult to sell through Traditional Publishing, but I'm thinking I don't want to go that route...much to ponder before fully making that decision, but I'm thinking about it.
I should have a Beta Manuscript by the end of the weekend. My Beta Readers are lined up and ready to go. Then it will be a month-long "break" from the novella. I have a couple of story ideas that I'm going to start working on during the "break" to see if anything sticks. I also have a short that I want to clean up and post for free online. And I'm going to put up my own website soon too, so you can look forward to that.
Well, so much for a "quick" update. There really is a lot going on!
Showing posts with label short story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label short story. Show all posts
Friday, April 1, 2011
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Chocolate Surprise
I know it's been awhile since my last post, but here's a little treat for you all...
He pulled the red box of chocolates from the cabinet, selecting a few choice pieces and arranging them artfully on a plate. He poured what was rumored to be a fantastic wine into his favorite crystal goblet. It was thick and had a deep red color that looked remarkably like blood. He enjoyed the irony with every pour. He carried the bait back into the living room.
Chocolate Surprise
by Megan P Haskell
He approached from behind, sliding one hand along her long, exposed white neck. The skin beneath his fingers shivered as the tiny hairs on the back of her neck lifted. He loved the first seduction of the last fatal kiss.
“Mmm, that feels nice,” she whispered, her sultry tone asking to be caressed.
She had no idea what he really was. He had picked her up in an exclusive and expensive bar downtown. She had eyed him from across the room, as they all were wont to do, but it was her neck that had made his final decision. He couldn't resist the translucent skin that gently pulsed in long blue lines beneath the surface. They had talked. She was a business woman, far away from home, looking for a little adventure. He had invited her home with him. No woman had ever refused.
“Would you like some dessert? I have some wonderful imported chocolates that would taste lovely with a little red wine,” he whispered into her ear. The chill that shivered down her spine was tantalizing. He almost took her then and there, but decided to make the evening last. At least a little while longer.
“That would be lovely,” she replied turning into his arms.
He let his hands slide down her shoulders, then quickly left the room, moving to the kitchen where he stored his bait. He had no real food, just dessert, liquor and wine. It was all he ever needed.
He pulled the red box of chocolates from the cabinet, selecting a few choice pieces and arranging them artfully on a plate. He poured what was rumored to be a fantastic wine into his favorite crystal goblet. It was thick and had a deep red color that looked remarkably like blood. He enjoyed the irony with every pour. He carried the bait back into the living room.
“Here we are,” he said, offering the plate and the goblet.
“Aren't you going to have any wine?” the woman inquired. “I hate to be the only one drinking.”
“Never mind that,” he replied. “Try the wine with the chocolates. They're truly divine.”
The woman took the plate from him and they sat on the burgundy couch, knees touching lightly. She picked up one of the dark brown morsels and placed it on her tongue. Her eyes closed in pleasure. He let his eyes trail down her light blue dress shirt and black pencil skirt. So proper on the outside, yet clearly so deviant on the inside.
“Here, let me give you a piece,” she said, a chocolate held out toward him.
“No, no. They are all for you, my dear.”
She frowned. “Please, let me feed you.” She leaned forward, her blouse framing that lovely neck and opening wider across the bust. No matter how hard he tried to look away, his eyes were drawn back to that little pulse point. He was hungry. He closed his eyes, inhaling her scent but keeping his desires in check.
“Don't worry. You'll feed me a little later, my darling.”
“I don't think so.”
His eyes flew open. Her voice had changed: no longer warm and sultry, it was cold and hard. But it was the wooden stake that rested between his ribs that was the real surprise. She had much better bait than he did.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Cake
As some of you know, I'm taking a writing class through UCLA Extension this summer. Today's post comes from a twenty minute exercise that we wrote at the beginning of class a few weeks ago. After re-reading it a few days later, I thought to myself, "This is kinda good. Maybe you should keep working on it." I took my own advice, and here it is, an original short short story by Megan P Haskell!
Mary opened the window in the front room. A gentle breeze ruffled the sheer curtains and washed through the house as she finished preparing dinner. The evening would be perfect. Everything was planned down to the tiniest detail.
Earlier in the day, Mary had carefully unwrapped the small frozen wedding cake, unable to believe that an entire year had passed. The sugar flowers still looked lovely. The cake now sat proudly on display as the centerpiece of the table, her grandmother’s prized silver candlesticks framing it with perfect white tapers.
Jacob was due home from work at seven. His favorite dinner was almost ready; the only thing missing was the garlic bread, which would be broiled at the last minute.
At 6:55 Mary lit the candles so that the flame would be big and beautiful, its light dancing on the lace tablecloth, and then returned to the kitchen to finish the last of the dishes before he arrived. She didn't want anything to interrupt their evening.
At 7:02 all the dishes were done. Mary stood looking out the window, hoping every pair of headlights belonged to Jacob’s big pickup truck. She was disappointed each time they passed her by.
At 7:17 Mary paced the room, her little black dress flowing gently around her. She had purchased the dress especially for this evening, spending more than she probably should have. It was a special occasion; their first in what she hoped would be many. Surely Jacob would be home soon. The flash of light sent her running to the window, but it was just the neighbor's red Nissan.
At 7:23 Mary put the bread under the broiler. A late husband was a hungry husband and she didn’t want to make Jacob wait.
At 7:26 the bread was finished, and Jacob still wasn't home. Mary nibbled a small buttery slice while it was still warm before wrapping the rest in a cloth and placing it in the basket. She set the basket on the table and sat, her knee jiggling.
At 7:38 Mary's stomach growled loudly and her arms were riddled with goosebumps. She called the main office, but no one answered. She called his cell. It rang twice, then went to his voicemail. The food was getting cold and Jacob was ignoring her calls.
At 7:51 Mary ate a small serving of the perfect homemade lasagna, but put the rest away. He was an hour late. He hadn’t called. She blew out the candles and put away the unused dishes.
At 8:28 he still wasn't home. Mary stood in the front room, staring at the empty street. Cars no longer passed; all the husbands were home. All but her own. She felt like a peeping tom watching the shadows move behind the blinds of her neighbors' houses.
At 8:39 Mary tried calling his cell phone again. There was still no answer. She decided she might as well get out of her dress. The store might let her return it since she hadn’t spilled anything. She didn’t want to - it was a beautiful dress - but she couldn’t justify the cost. There wouldn’t be another chance to wear it.
At 9:03 Mary returned to the kitchen wearing her oldest and most comfortable pair of pajamas. The beautiful cake taunted her from its seat on the table. She succumbed to the temptation and cut a slice, carrying it with her to the couch. Mary turned on the TV, flipping through the channels until she found a prime-time soap opera that wouldn’t require much thought.
At 9:07 Mary took a bite of the cake, but could barely swallow the small mouthful. It tasted like cardboard and chalk, not the decadent vanilla and sweet butter cream that she remembered. She set the plate on the coffee table, deciding to deal with the rest later.
At 9:19 Mary heard a car approaching the house. Her husband’s blue Ford was finally pulling up the drive. She watched him open the truck door and stumble out onto the cold gray cement; his slurred curses echoed against the house. Mary closed the window and went to bed, pausing only to throw the leftover cake in the trash.
******************************
Cake
By Megan P Haskell
By Megan P Haskell
Mary opened the window in the front room. A gentle breeze ruffled the sheer curtains and washed through the house as she finished preparing dinner. The evening would be perfect. Everything was planned down to the tiniest detail.
Earlier in the day, Mary had carefully unwrapped the small frozen wedding cake, unable to believe that an entire year had passed. The sugar flowers still looked lovely. The cake now sat proudly on display as the centerpiece of the table, her grandmother’s prized silver candlesticks framing it with perfect white tapers.
Jacob was due home from work at seven. His favorite dinner was almost ready; the only thing missing was the garlic bread, which would be broiled at the last minute.
At 6:55 Mary lit the candles so that the flame would be big and beautiful, its light dancing on the lace tablecloth, and then returned to the kitchen to finish the last of the dishes before he arrived. She didn't want anything to interrupt their evening.
At 7:02 all the dishes were done. Mary stood looking out the window, hoping every pair of headlights belonged to Jacob’s big pickup truck. She was disappointed each time they passed her by.
At 7:17 Mary paced the room, her little black dress flowing gently around her. She had purchased the dress especially for this evening, spending more than she probably should have. It was a special occasion; their first in what she hoped would be many. Surely Jacob would be home soon. The flash of light sent her running to the window, but it was just the neighbor's red Nissan.
At 7:23 Mary put the bread under the broiler. A late husband was a hungry husband and she didn’t want to make Jacob wait.
At 7:26 the bread was finished, and Jacob still wasn't home. Mary nibbled a small buttery slice while it was still warm before wrapping the rest in a cloth and placing it in the basket. She set the basket on the table and sat, her knee jiggling.
At 7:38 Mary's stomach growled loudly and her arms were riddled with goosebumps. She called the main office, but no one answered. She called his cell. It rang twice, then went to his voicemail. The food was getting cold and Jacob was ignoring her calls.
At 7:51 Mary ate a small serving of the perfect homemade lasagna, but put the rest away. He was an hour late. He hadn’t called. She blew out the candles and put away the unused dishes.
At 8:28 he still wasn't home. Mary stood in the front room, staring at the empty street. Cars no longer passed; all the husbands were home. All but her own. She felt like a peeping tom watching the shadows move behind the blinds of her neighbors' houses.
At 8:39 Mary tried calling his cell phone again. There was still no answer. She decided she might as well get out of her dress. The store might let her return it since she hadn’t spilled anything. She didn’t want to - it was a beautiful dress - but she couldn’t justify the cost. There wouldn’t be another chance to wear it.
At 9:03 Mary returned to the kitchen wearing her oldest and most comfortable pair of pajamas. The beautiful cake taunted her from its seat on the table. She succumbed to the temptation and cut a slice, carrying it with her to the couch. Mary turned on the TV, flipping through the channels until she found a prime-time soap opera that wouldn’t require much thought.
At 9:07 Mary took a bite of the cake, but could barely swallow the small mouthful. It tasted like cardboard and chalk, not the decadent vanilla and sweet butter cream that she remembered. She set the plate on the coffee table, deciding to deal with the rest later.
At 9:19 Mary heard a car approaching the house. Her husband’s blue Ford was finally pulling up the drive. She watched him open the truck door and stumble out onto the cold gray cement; his slurred curses echoed against the house. Mary closed the window and went to bed, pausing only to throw the leftover cake in the trash.
******************************
I hope you liked it. Please feel free to post comments. I've also posted it up on Scribd, so if you're feeling generous and have the time, please rate it and post a comment there as well.
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