NaNoWriMo 2011 Wrap Up & Excerpt

So I did not reach 50,000 words...but writing my historical fiction was a lovely, refreshing break from overhauling my 5+years in the works 1930's novel. Word wars with friends was a blast, not to mention spending an afternoon or two at our local Barnes and Noble with a hot coffee next to me. I felt quite like an author...a starving, unpaid one...but that's all a part of the glamour, right? ; )

This may sound cliche, holier-than-thou, but please know I don't mean it in those ways...

God has met me in this whirlwind month...its been really, truly good, just buckling down and writing. I've gotten distracted countless times, down on myself and falling into comparing my word count with others'...but God's little reminders sometimes came (and come...) in the strangest forms with my writing and this past National Novel Writing Month. Below I have an excerpt from Chapter Two of my humble novel, just to give you a feel of where I'm presently going with the story God has inspired.

Source: tumblr.com via Meghan on Pinterest

*Gulp* Here's an excerpt from the beginning of Take Heart. Comment freely, honestly, bluntly...I'm wide open! But...may I just say: this IS quite the diamond in the rough. 

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When Millie was a girl, she always thought Lake Erie looked like the ocean. It wasn't until she was in junior high that she realized differently. Oftentimes when her father was well, he would take her to Barcelona harbor just a few miles out of town and collect seashells or just sit and watch the gentle waves lap up on the shore. 

Indian Summer seemed to have made an appearance that Sunday, for which Millie was grateful. There wasn't more than a smattering of clouds in the sky—providing spots of cool shade for the older adults. Lake Erie reflected the brilliantly blue sky and gleaming waves shone like diamonds.When Millie was a girl, she always thought Lake Erie looked like the ocean. It wasn't until she was in junior high that she realized differently. Oftentimes when her father was well, he would take her to Barcelona harbor just a few miles out of town and collect seashells or just sit and watch the gentle waves lap up on the shore.

Many people from town new about this secluded beach down a well-worn path from the old Barcelona lighthouse. As Millie spread the quilts on the sand, she was happy to see that for the most part, the beach was their own for the afternoon.

Luke Riley helped Carl carry their father down the sandy, root strewn path...though Millie noted her father's downcast attitude and purposed to cheer him that afternoon. Even before his stroke, he was rarely sick and he loathed having to have assistance from others.

Since Greg's death and the stroke that left him partially immobile, Millie watched every day as the proud, quiet and strong father she knew slipped away. Now that Carl was back home safe and sound, she hoped their father would begin to heal from the inside out.

“Here we are, Dad. Just where you like it...right in the sunshine.” Millie tried to keep a note of normal cheer in her voice for her father's sake and she always resisted treating him like her mother sometimes did—like a child or a helpless invalid.

The father she grew up with was still in the frail man in the wheelchair...somewhere. Millie knew that and held onto that hope even when it seemed like such a thin thread. “Here's some iced tea, Dad. Mother, do you have the basket?”

Jean came down the path and around the corner in typical relaxed style; her silvery blue shirt dress flattered her perfect skin though not without a mark or two of worry, but she hadn't taken off her shoes. Her high heeled, open-toed shoes.

Millie quelled a chuckle and reached for their picnic basket that was hanging precariously on her mother's arm as she delicately ascended the hillside to the picnic blanket on the beach.

                                                                                                     Source: vi.sualize.us via Meghan on Pinterest