Happy Wednesday! I haven’t done a lot of writing in Minuet, but it’s okay. I’ve been reorganizing the chapter files. It’s time consuming, but it isn’t a big deal due to the way I write (that is, not in a straight line). I’ve missed Mack, Amelia, and the gang.
We’re heading into the last week before Christmas with a full plate. My kids both have concerts next week at school, and my older one is singing with our local professional orchestra along with many other teens from around the county. Should be fun!
I was super excited to see Minuet listed on the release schedule for next year. It’s due out in September, and my publisher wants it by the end of April. Plenty of time, but I still need to get cracking on it. I already know exactly how it ends.
In today’s snippet, Jamie is still away (for reasons that I won’t spoil, but anyone who has read Drumbeat will know). Mack hasn’t quite learned to balance his attachments or figure out where all the healthy lines are.
Content note: Mack’s a recovering alcoholic. He’s contemplating drinking again (nothing too heavy in this part) and recalling a moment with his (also alcoholic) mother.
WIPmath: 12/12/2018 = (1 x 2) + 1 + 2 = 5 paragraphs
Mack had the night off, and he was in a mood. The mood. The itch hit him forcefully in a way it hadn’t in a long time. Mack hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol in over five years. Not that he hadn’t wanted to or come close in all that time. But he’d had Jamie then. Countless nights that first year, when Jamie and Amelia were there every time he gave in. And when he was finally sober, Jamie was there for him again.
Jamie wasn’t there now, and the combination of the gaping hole he’d left and Mack’s internal buzzing brought back a whole lot of buried desires. He wanted something to take the edge off. He hadn’t seen Amelia in days, he still missed Jamie, and he was keyed up.
At first, he tried funneling the feeling into writing a new song. The lyrics wouldn’t come, and he couldn’t settle down enough to focus. He bounced off the couch and wandered into the kitchen, where he poured himself a glass of water. Standing by the sink, he paused. If he wanted, he could have something stronger. He could cave, and no one would know.
A memory surfaced of his mother, standing in exactly the same position he was now. She was at the sink, not with a glass of water but with a carrot and a knife, making dinner. Singing. Probably already halfway to drunk. The knife slipped, and—
Mack’s hand shook, sloshing water over the edge of the glass. The cold splash woke him up. He remembered what Jamie had said before he left, about not wanting to become his mother. Mack understood. He gulped the water, the cool liquid sliding down his burning throat. It wasn’t enough, but he would have to live with that.
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Poor Mack. 🙁 I didn’t know this about him (not sure if that’s me not paying attention or it hasn’t come up before Minuet), but it makes a lot of sense why he’s so close to Jamie.
I’m not sure I mentioned it. I think probably briefly somewhere else that Mack wasn’t drinking, but nothing specific otherwise. I don’t want to give away too much else yet, at least not publicly. I might share more spoilery bits elsewhere.
Exciting!
Oh, Mack. This is really great. Really feel for him here.
Thanks!
The intensity of his need here is visceral. It makes one wonder how bad what happened with the knife had been….
Here’s to getting to… and through the holidays. And to steady progress on Minuet
I’m not sure if Mack is ever going to get around to telling me what really happened. He has so much built-up trauma from his childhood, and he’s not good at sharing. I may post a bit more with that next time.
Eek. I can really feel the urge and longing here. The memory of the knife slipping pulled me up just the way it did for Mack.