All posts tagged: original work

Fiction Friday: Dark Parts of Motherhood, an excerpt from Novel-in-Progress

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By Leslie Lindsay Here’s a little something I’ve been working on this week. It’s from my novel-in-progress, ZOMBIE ROAD and is in the POV of the protagonist, Melanie (Mel) Dunbar. It’s a little dark…but I’m guessing if you’re a mom, you’ve likely had similar dark-ish feelings tainted with a streak of very fresh hormones. “No one ever told me about the dark parts of motherhood. I gave birth and people brought over the sweetest little shoes and pale pink swaddling blankets. They swooped in with tuna noodle casseroles and apple pies just to get a look at you nestled in my arms and they’re left. No one ever came when I was alone and afraid I’d do something wrong. Nor did they offer to rock you at three-in-the-morning when you, my perfect baby wouldn’t sleep and I was awake, grainy-eyed and angry. Then I was alone, my body trying to heal—and daddy was back at the office. He took the university offered paternity leave of two paid weeks, but that’s not nearly long enough. There was a …

Fiction Friday: Dark & Haunting Excerpt from Zombie Road

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By Leslie Lindsay Slowly plugging along at the next novel while in the midst of submitting the other one to agents…not to mention stuffing the Tofurkey and zipping around the southwestern sbuburbs playing Santa’s helper.  This is an out-of-sequence sence written from protagonist Melanie Dunbar’s POV in which she’s doing some digging on her new St. Louis suburb, the fictional Chestnut Ridge (read Wildwood).  It’s still pretty rough still, but gives the general impression of what I’m looking to convey. “There wasn’t much in Chestnut Ridge. A single street whose wooden sign read, “Zombie Road.”  I cocked my head and narrowed my eyes…was it a joke?  Who really names a road after a zombie?  I walked past a dozen cottages, built in pairs.  Here and there a distinctive feature stood out—a children’s swing, a wooden bench, a massive tree.  But for the most part, each dwelling, with its thatched cedar siding, the limestone foundations, and sloped porch coverings resembled its neighbor as if a mirrored image.  Cottage windows looked out onto what had been a …

Fiction Friday: Annie Ruminates

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By Leslie Lindsay A chapter I’ve been working on this week…a little rumination never hurt anyone, or does it?!         “Distractions are the pinnacle of rumination.  It’s a cycle, a bad one that keeps me going back to Steve.  An addiction, if you will.          There was no changing the fact that I opened the door to Steve again.  I shove all of those thoughts—the second-guessings, the self-doubt, the poor choice in character – to the back of my mind.  What kind of married woman, a mother of two does such a stupid thing?  Steve is a one-sided battle I fight, my distractions the victor.          I try to funnel attention to my family.  I make a list of all of the things I want to complete before summer’s end.  One by one, we’ll mark them off.  Family picnic…koi spawning at the local botanical garden…camp out in the backyard (note to self: get the makin’s for s’mores)…ice cream at the old-fashioned ice creamery…take Kenna and Madi to downtown Naperville for new shoes.           And so there …

Fiction Friday: Getting Darker

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By Leslie Lindsay Working at making my novel-in-progress a little darker, a little grittier.  I think this helps.  It’s set in the main character’s college days.  Remember, this is original work, not to be copied or shared as your own.  Thanks….and enjoy!! “I used to imagine it sometimes, what would happen if I just didn’t come home.  The thought always came to me when I was feeling particularly unworthy, lacking confidence, seeking attention.  God, I hated how that sounded; like I was an attention-seeking borderline threatening to run off or take my own life.  I could never do that, not really anyway.  The thought was always more about sharing my pain with others, letting them know just how miserable I felt deep down.  My desire to disappear came forth in the form of generosity.  Let me show you how I feel; Welcome to my personal hell; you should feel lucky.           They were anything but lucky.  My desperation and irritability put a shield around me, making me lonely in busy world.            “I wish I …

Fiction Friday:

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By Leslie Lindsay Back to that novel of mine.  Revisions are still underway,  thought you’d like to see what I am up to with Slippery Slope.  [remember, this is original fiction.  Your ideas for improvement are greatly appreciated]  “I storm out of Steve’s driveway, backing the Odyssey out while punching in Joe’s number.  He picks up on the first ring.          “Hi, sweetie.  How are things going?  Make it to Pat Cooper’s office?”         “Pat?  Who?” I narrow my eyes.           “You know.  The message.  This morning.  Mystery shopper.”           “Oh…yeah,” I feign recognition.  “Just leaving his office now.”  I look to the homes lining the streets, big and new.  Not Pat Cooper’s office.  “Listen, I need to pop in to Target for a minute.  Madi needs some Pull-Ups.”            “Okay.  Don’t worry about us.  We’re heading to the hardware store after we finish at the park.  Love ya, hon!”            “Joe, you have no idea how much I love you.”  I say and I mean it.            I hear a smile on the end …

Fiction Friday: Chasing After Illusions

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By Leslie Lindsay Here we are back in Leslie’s novel, Slippery Slope.  Annie (female protagonist) is at the gym chasing after illusions.  Remember, this is an original work of fiction.  Please feel free to offer comments, feedback, etc. but don’t take as your own work.  Thanks–and enjoy!       I am back at the gym.  The dreaded treadmill; an artificial run.  The mechanics of the machine lifting itself up, clanging and cranking.  Feigning a hill.         Hot, rubbery legs.         Steve’s legs, long and lean reaching for my foot.  The other day.  Lunch.        I press the speed button several times—5.3 MPH.  A good, healthy jog.  My heart is pounding, but not because of the run. I didn’t sleep well last night.            Joe’s breath on the back of my neck.       See a therapist.  You’re not yourself.       Steve’s cocky grin.        I tossed and turned.  Thinking.  Dreaming.        Come back to me.       So much pent-up energy inside of my body.        I close my eyes briefly, my legs pounding the black rubber strip. …

Fiction Friday: Joe and Annie’s Marital Spat

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By Leslie Lindsay Here’s a new excerpt from Slippery Slope.  The main characters are having a marital spat…due to her, uh…indiscretion, but no one knows just how slippery the slope can be.  A work of original fiction.           “Joe is in the master bedroom unpacking his suitcase from New York.  He hangs his garment bag over the closet door.  The tension is thick as I open and close drawers to our dresser, putting laundry away.            “She called me, you know,” he said abruptly.         I shook my head–confused, distracted, “Who called you?”         “The other day…Madi’s principal.”         My whole body grows cold, like ice.  My head feels dizzy, my mouth dry.        “Where were you?  Why were you late?”         I shove some socks into a drawer, turned to close it with my hips, “I….uh…was just running late,” I offered.         I fiddled with the laundry basket–that funny little piece that had broken off, flapping like a broken appendage—thinking of an excuse on the fly—or look distracted so I could concoct a better …

Fiction Friday:

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By Leslie Lindsay Another installment from my womens’ fiction novel…remember, this is original work and not intended to represent anyone living or dead.  Please do not borrow, beg, or steal.  I’d love to hear your comments on this.  Preparing to pitch to an agent in mid-April.  Enjoy!  “I sniffed out a smile and shrugged, secretly pleased with their assessment of my Annie.  When I wandered down to the bedroom, rubbery cheese pizza in hand, I leaned on the door jamb and watched.  Annie and Colin were perched on the green shag carpeting, her arm around him, a book open in her lap.  “And then the third little pig…”  Her voice lilting with excitement.  I knew then that I would marry Annie Kelley and make babies with her.  And now, that dream has been shattered.  All because of one little mistake, more like a series of mistakes.  I hang out with Beth in college.  I kiss Beth.  I ignore Annie.  She needs more.  And now she is getting more.  More kids.  Less of me.  I lean …

Fiction Friday: I Drink Alone

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By Leslie Lindsay Still working away on that novel of mine…here we are in 2nd draft re-writes.  What’s the difference between re-writing and revising?  How about editing?  Is that all the same?  Well, no.  At least I don’t *think* so.  Here are my own definitions: Revise.  To my ear, this simply means tweaking the words you already have on paper (or screen).  It may mean making a statement or description more clear.  It may mean switching the order of the sentences…that’s a “new vision,”  or a revise.  Rewrite.  This one sounds harder than revising, and it may be–just depends on where you’re at in the process.  Here’s what I think this means…”you’ve got a great concept here, but it  sucks like a vacuum.  Save the general gist of this piece, but made it much more active by adding in dialogue, subtracting over-zealous amounts of backstory, and removing extra words like ‘had’ and ‘was.’  When I get a submission back with this type of advice, at first I groan and then I have fun because making the …

Fiction Friday: “Sh*t, or get off the Pot”

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By Leslie Lindsay Here’s some new stuff from my novel-in-progress.  This character was orginally hard to write, but he’s really starting to come to life.  Onward, Steve! [Remember this is fiction.  It is not meant to represnt anyone real, living or dead.  Please do not beg, borrow, or steal…if you like, great–if not, that’s okay, too]          Twenty zoomed by in a blur.  Mentally, my mind worked out the numbers.  Four years in college.  Two of them with Annie.  Plus another 3 or so months of dating her in high school.  A year of an internship.  Four years dating Beth.  Three years at my first job…married for 5…events overlapped like a Venn Diagram.  It was becoming a bad word problem.  Overarching the whole problem, at its core was Annie.  The mathematical study of change.  Calculus.  I remember our prof from college, a rail-thin guy with an ironic affinity for words: “calculus is derived from Latin, meaning ‘to cut with stone.’  I didn’t quite get it then, and I still don’t now.  No amount of formal …