Okay, everyone. I've learned my lesson: I should never, ever, EVER stop writing. This week: the story of how I got started again. (It's short, I promise.)
But first (and segueing into the story!)
Everything I was obsessed with this week.
Because I know you want to know.
1. The Rainbow Sponge Lady.
If you're having kind of a rough morning, just....watch. Just watch her. Trust me.
Here's another "the last thing I want to do is cook because CAN'T YOU SEE I'M WRITING" recipe. Get yourself some frozen puff pastry dough. Unroll it. Cut it into squares with a pizza cutter. Mix up some shredded cheese, egg, and garlic. Plop it in the middle, fold it over, and bake them at 350 for 25 minutes. Eat one and freeze the rest. When your husband/kids/roommate goes looking for food, tell them to get their noses the hell out of your monitor and microwave themselves some of these. You're DONE.
3. The New Chrome Playlist.
So, here's where the story starts. You guys gave me some amazing advice about getting out of my between-projects slump on Wednesday. The words that most resonated with me were, "Just Do It."
My CP Chessie has some sort of sixth sense about my writing self, and so she sent me an email pep-talking me. When that didn't work, she pulled out the tough love in a comment on that post pushing me to write. But the final push off the cliff was when she actually spent time MAKING A PLAYLIST FOR Chrome. This involved not only her valuable music-combining skills, but also an informal questionnaire about the book's mood and also READING THE BIBLE. And, if the playlist in itself wasn't amazing, the guilt alone would have pushed me to write.
Luckily, the playlist Chessie made is spot-on perfect and totally kicks butt. Embedded below -the first seven songs are ones she pulled.
Aaaaaaand last but not least. A little snip of the first thousand words I wrote for Chrome. Meet Havah and Jarrod. Havah's a princess and Jarrod's a douchebag.
Havah drew back, stood tall, and cleared her throat. “My guards will be looking for me.”
“Let them search," he said. "Give those stupid blue lights something to do besides menace all the boys out there trying to touch you.”
Havah ducked under Jarrod’s arm again, and reached for the door, wrapping her fingers around the handle one by one. His hand covered hers, and an unsettling wave of warmth moved through her. She looked him straight in the eye, knowing the chill their icy blue brought to her body would steady her.
“There are others who would have me, Jarrod.” But no others I want. She blinked back tears.
“Havah, my own. Please.”
“I am no one’s own.” She spoke loud and clear now. “And you are boring me.”