Meg Dowell Writes

Easter candy = headless bunnies of chocolate-ness.

I got woken up this morning by the sound of a bell. That’s the default sound I hear when I get a text message. Really, I love texting. If more people texted me every day, I’d pretty much be set for life. But I don’t really like texting at seven thirty in the morning, or being woken up by texts that early. No one should be up at seven thirty on a Thursday anyway. But who’s complaining? I’ve gotten texts at five thirty in the morning, midnight, and two o’clock in the morning before. Kelli.

I don’t have any homework to do today, and no class tomorrow or Monday (thank you Good Friday and national speech team tournaments). So I’m pretty much going to spend most of today (when I’m not in class, of course) working on my novel. I’m about 36,000 words into it, my goal being 70,000 to match the first book in the “series.” Even though it isn’t really a series. Most of the characters are the same. Different narration. Completely different story. Completely.

I just finished chapter 17 (well, almost), which is one of the chapters I’ve been anticipating since I started writing this thing. It’s kind of a breakthrough chapter, one of those “oh, snap!” moments (yes, I just wrote “oh, snap”). I can’t say much more about it, because Evie (who reads this blog) has not read it yet. And she won’t, until she reads sixteen. Which she hasn’t. I’m still not sure why.

Basically, everything that happens in the book from this point on is kind of intense. I say intense because, well, I can’t really tell you. There are some things said, some tears shed (hey! rhyming!), and a lot less lying. Let’s just say someone got caught with someone they shouldn’t have been with, after someone else pushed someone else away they’re convinced they don’t want to be with. And rules. Lots and lots of stupid rules.

It doesn’t make sense. I know. If your name was Evie, this would be a whole lot easier. If your name was Jackson, things would be easier, too, except Jackson is still on like chapter 9. So he’s still confused, too. Unless he’s forgotten about me and isn’t even reading this. Which is a possibility.

How about we shoot for 40,000 words today? That’s a good goal, don’t you think? Happy April! And just so you know, I hate April Fool’s Day. I’m the most gullible person on the entire planet. People like to make me cry today. It’s completely not a fun time.

Love&hugs&truth, Meg♥