Welcome, Wednesday! I’m really excited about a whole bunch of things this week. First of all, on the family/personal front, spouse, kids and I had a great time playing a new creative game on Monday (snow day!). We tried out something called Ninja Panda Taco, and you can check the link for more info. It’s a storytelling role-play game where you create pretty much all the elements. I highly recommend it.
Second, even though my kiddo didn’t make it into All-County jazz band this year, he had the highest score of any sixth grader. We’re so proud of him! On Sunday, he and I played in church, and one of the moms of his friend from Confirmation Class, who also happens to play saxophone, complimented him on his excellent tone.
Before I get to my professional exciting stuff, here are my ROW80 Goal Updates:
- Read 30 minutes/day—yup, easily
- Write 1 hour/day—Yes, including what I was supposed to be working on—more on that later.
- Write 1 blog post/week that isn’t ROW80 or WIPpet—yup.
- Write 1 flash fiction/month—it’s only a few days into the month, so not yet.
- Walk on the treadmill 5 days/week—no, but I shoveled a LOT of snow instead With my fibro, I have to pick one or the other, so I don’t feel too bad about that.
On to this week’s WIPpet.
Guess what guess what guess what??? [bounces on toes] I have a new project! Actually, I have almost 40k of a new project. Woo hoo! This is part of what will eventually be a series which I have officially titled Notes from Boston. The current novel is Anthem. I finally have titles I like that won’t be changing unless something weird happens.
For a bit of background, anyone who knows me is keenly aware of how much I dislike many Christian praise & worship songs. Specifically, I don’t like anything that sounds like I’m singing a romantic song to Jesus as my boyfriend. There was a big brouhaha a few years back over a song that sounds like it’s about sex but is really, truly about Jesus. I could not make this up. Anyway, back in college, I knew a few worship leaders who used to take popular love songs and turn them Christian by changing a few words. I wanted to experiment with doing exactly the opposite. So the running thread of the story is a rising Christian pop artist who writes a very conflicted song about sex, only to have it mistaken for his latest praise anthem. As it gains popularity, the rest of his life starts falling apart and he’s left with several messes which threaten his career.
Today, I’m giving you a bit of the prologue. New month, new WIP, so no fancy math this time.
The family area at the end of the hallway was packed with people, all of whom were waiting for the same outcome. The whole gang had assembled for their usual Friday night pizza, TV, and beer, minus the pizza and beer and with a random broadcast on the lounge television. In fact, considerably more than the whole gang had crammed into the small space. They were nearly on top of each other, and at least three people were wrestling for the remote, borrowed from the nurse’s station. Andre shook his head and rose to his feet, intending to hover impatiently by the door.
Mack was already there, peering over his shoulder into the hallway periodically and shaking his head. There wasn’t anywhere for him to sit, so he’d been appointed Official Watchman.“Why does it matter, anyway? We all know what’s going to happen,” he grumped.
“No, we don’t,” his sort-of girlfriend, Amelia, piped up. “Besides, you’re just pissed because you don’t have a seat.”
“Shut up!” Mack replied moving away from the door frame. “I just don’t get what all the fuss is about.”
They were too busy arguing to notice when Andre stepped around them to stand in the hallway. He was the first to see Trevor approaching. When their eyes met, Trevor stopped to lean on the wall by the door. He looked utterly exhausted; he scrubbed his hands over his face and closed his eyes. Andre, needing time to gather himself and talk to Trevor before before he announced his presence, came to stand facing his boyfriend. Trevor opened his eyes again and craned his neck to peek in at the two dozen or so assembled friends and family, which included his parents and Marlie’s as well as Andre’s. Andre followed his gaze, and he made eye contact with Nate. For a moment, Andre’s stomach clenched, and he prayed Nate would understand why they weren’t entering the room yet. Nate nodded, and Andre breathed a sigh of relief.
Everyone else was still immersed in conversation. No one except Nate was paying attention, so Andre stepped closer and reached out for Trevor. With shaking hands, Trevor slipped his arms around Andre’s neck.
“Okay?” Andre murmured.
“Yeah.” Trevor dropped his head to Andre’s shoulder. After a few seconds of silence, he mumbled into the fabric of Andre’s shirt, “She’s fine, and the baby’s fine.”
Relief flooded Andre, and he slumped against the man in front of him. It was his turn to close his eyes, squeezing them shut against the unexpected rush of grief. He breathed slowly, focusing on Trevor instead of his own jumbled thoughts. Without a word, Trevor folded Andre into his arms and held on, absorbing the emotions Andre couldn’t express. It was all right; Trevor understood why it was bittersweet for him. Andre withdrew and pressed a kiss to Trevor’s temple.
“Hey,” Trevor said. “Are you okay? I’d forgotten how hard this would be for you.”
“I’ll be all right. I just need a minute with you.”
They rested their foreheads together, eyes closed and hands clasped, breathing steadily. At last Trevor let go and raised his hand to cup Andre’s cheek.
“I’m…” His eyes shimmered. “We’re daddies.” A shaky laugh rumbled in his throat.
“Never thought I’d say that,” Andre murmured, placing his hand on top of Trevor’s.
“We good?” Trevor asked, his voice full of tenderness.
“I think so.” Andre leaned in to kiss Trevor. “Let’s go.”
As spoilery as it sounds, trust me, it’s not. You’ll just have to wait to see what it all means (unless I decide to be cruel, which is always a possibility).
Liked what you read? Join the fun by posting your own snippet, connected to the date, and adding it here. Don’t forget to check out the other WIPpeteers and offer them some love. Thanks again to K. L. Schwengel for bringing us together for a play date. Happy writing!
