Word Count: 10,241

I have hit the 

10,000 mark!

Still loving my novel.

Don't know if anyone else will, 

(There are no comments on my snippet yet.)

but hey.  

At least it will be done.

You never know.

*wink*

Day 5 - Update

The more I write, the more it flows.  Sometimes, it takes a little longer.  The important thing is ...

THAT WRITERS ACTUALLY WRITE!

Sooooo.... that being said.  My current word out... drumroll please.

6,978!  

Took one day off.  but have written 1667+ words every day.  

Feels great.  I'm loving my story!  

And I'm thinking of the working title of 

'Flight'.  

Here is an excerpt of 'The Proposal' - which chapter I like, a lot.
But remember, this is ROUGH.
My goal this whole month is to just get the ideas out and
written.
Editing comes after.

My biggest challenge as a writer has been
not to see the here and now scenes,
but how all of them fit together.

The Proposal

The golden light from the sun before it peaked the mountains in the morning broke through the lacy curtains in Jillian’s room.  She laid in her bed trying to decide whether or not to open her eyes.  Muscles were starting to get sore from laying in bed knowing that the sun was up, so she slowly rolled over to keep her eyes from squinting by the sun’s rays.  Her mind wasn’t quite ready for the new day yet.  It appeased both interests, and so she slowly opened her eyes.  

She was in her room at her grandparents’ house.  

Jillian’s thought refused to think of anything but tracing the pattern that the sun etched through the lacy window onto the adjoining wall.  Once her eyes had taken in all the details from the lace silhouette on the wall, they roamed the room.  For some reason, her mind wanted to soak in all the details, but gradually and not tell her why.  It was there, in the back of her mind.  Instead of forcing it to resurface, she enjoyed the bliss of random, artistic detail.  

Lingering on three photos on the wall above my dresser, the names slowly came.  Triana and I at a restaurant celebrating a special occasion.  Next, her grandparents standing on the steps to their home here in Three Rivers.  The last picture was her parents enjoying a trip together in Italy in a Gondola.  

Not remembering how she got here, and finding herself still in her clothes from yesterday, she tried to remember who she came with.  Was it a holiday?  Did I come home with Triana? It’s August.  There are no holidays in August.  

There was a soft knock on the door.  Knock knock knock-knock.

A smile grew on her face.  Arnold’s knock.  She came with Arnold.  

“Come in,” Jillian spoke quietly, still warming up her voice.

“Hey, Sunshine,” the warmth in his voice waking her sleepy muscles.  “The sunrise is just about to come up. Up for a walk along the river at sunrise?”

How many times had she walked the river at sunrise living there with her grandparents.  But, with him, each time made it like the first time - full of newness and awe.  “That’d be fabulous,” Jillian yawned while finishing.  “Let me just toss on my shoes.”  

As quickly as a spring bear coming out of hibernation could crawl out of her cave, Jillian emerged from her room.  She stretched and arched her back which brought out a more chipper Jillian - anxious for some alone time with Arnold in a more calming, familiar/relaxing setting. 

They walked a short quarter mile to the riverbanks, covered with smooth round rocks the size of small boulders.  She was automatically drawn to seeing the angles of the rivers and mountains with more small boulders interrupting the flow of the river.  Everything was golden with the sunlight before it peaks the mountains of the coast.  Living in the valley has its perks.

She and Arnold held hands as they supported each other along the adventure, wobbly walk on the rocks.  He paused and pointed to a little clearing, and a nice big boulder with a flat top.  Bringing his hand that held hers up to his mouth, he kissed her hand and said, “I made something for you.”  Wrapped in a satin cloth, he handed her his skinny rectangular gift.  Removing the cloth and bow, Jillian revealed a photo book with a window in the front cover showing a picture of them.  Arnold and Jillian, smiling and posing for a picture with heads touching.  It brought a smile to her face.  

He led her to the area he pointed out and they sat while reminiscing of their memories.

The first page was titled ‘Cruise to Hawaii’ with pictures of when they met.  “I can’t believe how afraid I was!  I wasn’t even flying.  But going up the stairs, holding that rail going up to the deck.”  Jillian said laughing at herself.

“Yeah, or remember when I asked you to go on a helicopter ride with me over the active volcano?  The look on your face was priceless.  Wish I had that one in here,” said Arnold.  Jillian smiled, still wondering how she let him convince her to do that at the time. The whole point she took the cruise was to not fly.  

“I love that hair clip, Arnold,” Jillian said as she turned the page to show a picture of her and Arnold all dressed up for a concert on the cruise.  The clip in her hair was a pearlesce white feather and flower carved out of the inner part of a shell called ‘mother of pearl’.  It was brilliant against her dark brown hair.   

She had no idea how to put it on.  Luckily Triana was there to show her how.  She and Triana had bunked on the cruise together because they had saved money up to go ‘see the world’ without flying.  Where else than Hawaii!  

More pages revealed some of the silly and fun times they had with friends.  Jillian and Arnold laughed at some of the faces they made and things they did.  She recognized some of the pictures Triana had taken.  He must have cohorted with her put this together.  And she didn’t even squeak a hint about this!  What did Arnold say to get Triana to keep quiet about this?

Turning the next page, there were the words “Camping Trip to Yosemite” from when they went with a bunch of friends and art students to Yosemite gaining inspiration for landscaping class projects.  They had rented out two campsites.  One for the boys, the other for the girls.  The days were filled with sketching and hiking.  So many amazing places in Yosemite.  Arnold looked thoughtful at the photo of Jillian sketching off to the side of a river that formed at the base of a waterfall.  She loved to draw, and Arnold commented, “You are an amazing artist, Jillian.”  She remembered how he was there for her after class, and leaned her head into his shoulder while they continued to reminisce, drawing near the end of his book.

The next page, titled “Ice Skating Together,”  showed Arnold calling to her (again, Triana taking the pictures).  Oh, how she laughed when he tried to get her to go on the ice.  Jillian shook her head, “I never would’ve dreamed of doing that.  I was perfectly content to just enjoy watching others look graceful, ice skating on the outdoor ice skating rink of Yosemite.”  After seeing someone fall, she was set; it was not going to happen.  Triana caught a picture of her skating while holding Arnold’s hand like a young child learning how to walk, and then with no hands held for support, and victory arms up in the air.  The last picture on that page was of her holding her skates like a trophy and Arnold’s arm around her.  Both of them smiling.

The last two pages held photos of them together just last week, out at dinner, at the park (where someone asked to take a picture of us - they must have sent it to Arnold), in Arnold’s dental office (him outfitted in his scrubs) with her by his side, at the gardens, and the zoo.  

However, the last spot on the last page was empty - like a photo was meant to be put there, but was left out.  Jillian noticed, “Hey, there’s a photo missing.”  Arnold pulled out an envelope from his light sweater pocket (the mornings in Three Rivers can be cold even in August).  

“Well,… I was hoping to put this one in it.”  He handed her the envelope, and hopped off the edge of the boulder while putting his hands in his pockets.  

Jillian lifted the back envelope flap and saw that a photo was inside.  Her hands started shaking.  Slowly pulling it out, the photo slowly revealed itself showing a padded inside of an opened wooden box held by Arnold’s hand with a striking white and black diamond ring sparkling in the sunlight. 

Her hands started to shake more. Her mouth dropped open slightly in shock, but with the corners slightly tilted up in a gradual smile.  Tears filled her eyes and her shaking hand automatically came to her mouth covering what was hidden underneath of it.  Creases at her eyes that usually accompany a smile.  She turned to him to confirm what the picture meant.

“Jillian, you paint my heart with purpose every day.”  He knelt down onto the grassy clearing as he continued on,  “I would love to share your dream of painting the world with that same purpose.  Will you do me the honor of allowing me to be your husband, and you my wife, as we share that dream?”  

Arnold pulled out the same wooden box from the picture and opened it, revealing the same ring she had just seen before her eyes glazed over with tears.  Now Arnold’s voice starting to shake, as well as his hands.  His confidence all resting on what she’d say.  

“Jillian, will you marry me?” he said.  The sun had started to rise over the mountain.  The dawn of a new day.  A new day with Arnold, asking to share their life together.  She thought of all the dreams they had talked about, mainly hers.  And he wanted to be part of them.  She blinked her eyes and the tears flowed down.

“Yes,” she whispered, her mouth still covered with her hand, her eyes speaking volumes.  She quickly dropped her hand down and, louder, said, “Yes!” Jillian set aside the book and photo on the flat-topped boulder and quickly hopped down, ran to Arnold, and wrapped her arms around him. 

Arnold stood up to meet her and wrapped his arms around her tightly.  Now that he had her, he wasn’t going to let her go.  He lifted her up so that her feet came off the floor and her feet raised up, just like in the old movies she’d watch with Grandma.  

“I love you, Jillian Stewart.” He squeezed tighter.  “Soon to be Mrs. ________.”

As they peeled themselves apart, Arnold softly held onto her hand, keeping hold to not let her go.  He pulled out the ring from the box and slipped it onto her ring finger.  “Perfect,” she said as more tears flowed down the previous tears’ trails.  “Mrs.  ________.  I like that.  A lot.”  The golden glow from the sun was nothing compared to the glow she felt inside.  

They collected the book and enveloped photo and casually walked back down the river, the way they came. Arms wrapped around each other.  Still supporting one another on the wobbly rocks.  Something they’d be doing for the rest of their lives.  To never walk the path of life alone, anymore.    

Jenn's Gone...

NANOWRIMO, Baby!

50,000 words in 

30 days!

If you need me, you know where I'll be...

Day one:  1704  (boo yah!)

Day two goal:  3334