Happy Wednesday! I’m so excited because on Friday, my publisher has a new anthology out and I, along with some of my favorite fellow writers, have a story in it. I have two guest posts this week and three next week, so stay tuned to read what other authors have to say about participating in the collection.
Other than that, my big news is that I finished the draft of Anthem. It’s still a WIP since it needs my usual three rounds of edits, but it’s done! I’ve already started a new project. I’m now sold on the idea of outlining. The new project is moving much faster than I anticipated as a result, and I have about 10k done (I had the first couple chapters done already from before but left it to write Anthem).
Since it’s still my primary WIP, I’m sticking with Anthem for now. I’m back to Trevor’s POV because the rest of Andre’s chapter was all spoilers. Trevor is feeling down and settling in for a dull New Year’s Eve without friend or lover. The band name here was my dear husband’s suggestion. I liked it, so it stuck.
WIPmath: 4 + 29 = 33 + one bonus = 34 sentences.
Mack and Jamie’s band, the Creepy Crullers—who even knew what that name meant—were playing a New Year’s Eve gig. They’d left hours earlier. Nate had also taken off. One of his castmates from his latest opera was having a party, and although Nate had offered to bring him along, Trevor had declined. Instead, he was sitting alone in the apartment, trying not to dwell on the fight he’d had with Marlie after Christmas which had resulted in her not calling him since. He could have gone into the city for First Night festivities, but it wasn’t a lot of fun alone, and he wasn’t in the mood. Even moping was too much effort.
Trevor flipped on the television, ordered takeout, and popped the top off a beer, settling in to watch whatever mindless thing he could find. Nate surprised him by breezing in around ten. Trevor sat up from his half-doze on the couch. He’d had one too many beers, and he felt slightly sloshy when he propped himself up. By Nate’s unsteady gait, he wasn’t in much better a position.
“Have fun?” Trevor asked, yawning.
“Was okay.” Nate’s words slurred a little. He held up a bottle of champagne. “Brought this home, though.”
Trevor groaned. “I’ve had plenty.” He waved his hand at the beer bottles littered on the floor around the coffee table, and he nearly knocked over the mostly full one still sitting there.
“Me too,” Nate agreed. He stepped further into the room and plopped down next to Trevor, slinging his arm over Trevor’s shoulders. “Why are you home alone?”
“Didn’t feel like going anywhere.” Trevor asked, shifting so he was angled toward Nate.
“You still thinking about Marlie?” Nate’s eyes crinkled and he furrowed his brow. “Geez. What did you guys fight about this time?”
Trevor grunted. “I’m not even sure. Her parents are pissed that I haven’t asked her to marry me yet. Why’d you leave the party so early?”
Nate dropped his arm and stretched so his six-foot-two-inch frame was sprawled over most of the couch. “Asshole who came with someone caught his date hitting on me, tried to punch me. It got ugly.”
And there you have it. If you liked this, feel free to jump in and add your own. Just post a bit of your work in progress, tie it to the date, and link up here. Don’t forget to read the other entries. Many thanks to K. L. Schwengel for giving us room to roam. Happy reading and writing!
