I spent half the day today reviewing my editor's comments on Chapters 1-5 of
Rock Star Mommy. I was really pleased with how easy it was. She moved some things around, added a few words here and there and asked me to elaborate a little more in certain areas. I am very happy with how it is shaping up.
I spent the second half of the day decorating the house for Halloween. Willie and I did some shopping for scary adornments and the front porch is looking pretty wicked.
As for Dylan he shared with his A+ writing Honors English paper with us in his normal low-key manner. I asked him if I could post it on my blog and he said no. Then Willie blurted out "Don't worry. No one reads Mom's blog anyway." After that
snarky remark, he gave me permission. Here it is:
Desert Scene by Dylan Davids (age 14)
He peered out over the desert laid out before him, shimmering in the afternoon heat. With a glint of disappointment, he realized this probably wasn’t the place.
In the distance, seemingly eons away lurked massive behemoths, casting their regenerating shadows on those lucky enough to bask in them. His famished mind thought of gushing streams, spilling their life nourishing liquid randomly across the face of those mountains. No time for that now, he thought. He must find the specter of his past that had lured him to this barren, windswept land broken up only by the occasional sand dune or hardy plants, either strong enough or foolish enough to attempt life here.
Eyes squinting, he resumed his hunt, like a tiger his keen eyes picked up every detail of this alien landscape, except his hunt was not for food, his backpack provided an adequate supply of that. He thought of his backpack, a reliable friend who had nourished him during his tireless search and had kept him alive.
No detail was lost on his eyes as they searched, endlessly. He saw the cacti, their strong greens standing out against the monotonous tan of the sand. He saw the vultures, nature’s thieves, as they circled some rotting carcass, as if it were a treasure of a lost civilization. He also saw a lonely snake, its sleek body slithering and sliding across a sand dune. He felt a certain kinship with the snake, they were both the only ones of their kind traveling this lonely expanse.
He stared back at his footprints, stretching back into infinity and shivered. He had to shield his eyes now, as the sun shone its blinding rays down and was reflected back by each individual granule of sand, forming a sea of tan jewels.
Then he saw it. A post, a simple wooden post devoid of any decoration. It stuck out of the ground at an odd angle, peculiar because of its odd situation in a desert. His heart raced, his hands clenched, and his legs tingled. He took a step forward. And then another. Every step he took was a calculated maneuver, his worn shoes sinking into the sand. Then he paused, if only for a second to think. He knew mirages and tricks of the mind were common in parts of the world, where they could drive you to insanity. He recalled several times being fooled by the deserts cruel tricks, sprinting towards what appeared to be a oasis or village, only to stop dead in his tracks as salvation dissolved into the sandy sea. He held no fondness for the desert or any of the games it played on his mind.
He hesitated, and then warily stepped forward. This had to be it, he thought as his mind combated his weary body for superiority over his actions. This had to be it, his mind started to win the tug-of-war it was engaged in with his body. This had to be it! He broke out into a light jog and then a sprint. He felt his sole purpose in life was to reach that post, small and distant. He was now an athlete, sprinting for the finish line as his close competitor caught up, inch by inch He was using his bodies’ last energy reserves for this run, and if it turned out to be a mirage then he would surely perish in a sandy tomb.
Then he fell. As he fell so did all his hopes and dreams. The sand was suddenly concrete and his hopes and dreams shattered upon it like a snow globe carelessly tossed aside. But he could not give up now. No not after all the work he had done to reach this. He twitched. His body couldn’t take any more. It had gone through too much in the past few days. But failure was not an option. With an iron will he rose, an inch at a time and stood. He stumbled those final few steps, stretched across eternity as his body screamed in pain.
But he reached that beacon of hope, a simple post. He slowly reached down his callused hands and touched the post. This was no mirage. His long and slow trek through the desert was over at last. He was elated. He started to dig, his energy seemingly magically restored from the discovery. He uncovered another post, and then another, and then a third. He had uncovered the remains of his childhood home. He hardly remembered his childhood, it was from a clouded part of his memory. As he rummaged through the rubble he hoped all his questions would be answered.
I just dropped off the edited manuscript for Rock Star Mommy at the post office. I wanted to do it today, on Halloween, so I would have a reference to remember in years to come. I could say "I dropped off the final version on October 31."
