Meg Dowell Writes

Have you ever noticed the smiley face at the bottom of this site? If you haven’t, scroll down. It’ll blow your mind.

Apparently, it has something to do with counting hits–or so someone tells me. I don’t believe it. I told you smiley faces would take over the world some day! You didn’t believe me. Shame on you.

No more finals! All that’s left is to turn in a project, which I’m working on right now. Here’s an excerpt:

I fidgeted with the tassel in my lap as I tried to hide from the wind. He wouldn’t close his window; I’d asked him, but he hadn’t listened. He never listened—not when I wanted him to. Only when I was at my most distant did he try to talk to me.

He was so clueless.

I turned my face away from him and concentrated on the nothing that we passed—cornfields, and the occasional cell phone tower, but nothing that held any meaning. I counted the number of times he tapped the steering wheel with his fingertips, in time with the music. Sixty seconds; twenty taps. Seventy miles an hour; we were still driving.

It’s the beginning of a novel I may or may not be starting this month. Writing is so much fun! Though, I’ll admit, my brain needs a few more days to recover from Like Jenny Parker . . .

. . . which I’ve decided is NOT the novel I’m ordering a proof copy for. Can you guess which novel I’m ordering within the next week? Any guesses at all?

REMINISCENCE!

Finally, right? I mean, I DID talk non-stop about it for, what, three months? It’s about time.

I just have to do a little bit more editing. See, I’m not so great at dialogue . . . and I’ve decided that coming right out and saying “your parents are dead” would probably not be the most comforting thing in the world to hear. Truth?

Anyway, it’s time to start mentally preparing myself for college! Stellar!

I do not say that. Jackson says that. I do NOT say that. Nor will I ever say it again, thank you.

If you have a brain, remember: finals will fry it.

Love&hugs, Meg♥