Maybe ...

My write goal for this weekend was to spend at least one uninterrupted hour on The Witch of November. To ensure that I would have no distractions whatsoever, I unplugged the router. That's right, no Twitter or Facebook to capture my attention!

So I took the laptop into my room, put Vertical Horizon's Burning the Days album on the CD player, and started Chapter One over again. Yes, I've written and rewritten Chapter One about seven zillion times (give or take), but this time, I think I might actually be happy with it.

I don't quite know what the difference is except for that I think I loosened up a little. I wasn't as focused on making it all sound perfect; I just wrote. I kind of took an example from the writing exercises and just went with it. 

And this is some of what I came up with:

Allie Sullivan knew the second the Frisbee left Charlie Davis’s hand that she was in for a very long day. With one hand shielding her eyes from the late-June sunshine, she watched the neon yellow disc slice through the humid sea air like a hot knife through butter.

It soared high above her head and finally disappeared from view after clearing the tall wrought-iron fence surrounding the property all the way across the barely-two-lane side street. Allie spun on her heels and fixed Charlie with an exasperated glare.

“Oops!” The boy’s best I’m-so-cute-and-innocent smile brightened his face.

Allie heaved a sigh and rolled her eyes heavenward. Charlie hadn’t even managed to last ten minutes before doing something obnoxious and aggravating. She shouldn’t have been surprised, though; Obnoxious and Aggravating should have been the kid’s middle name.

Charlie Obnoxious and Aggravating Davis, she thought. Had a nice ring to it.

A mischievous glint lit the boy’s bright blue eyes, and any doubt Allie had as to exactly why her friend had whipped the Frisbee so hard disappeared. “I am so not going over there to get that,” she informed him.

Charlie raised a single eyebrow at her. He didn’t move, didn’t say a word, and Allie realized that he was simply waiting for to give in and head over to retrieve the Frisbee anyway. Well! Two could play the stubborn game, and she crossed her arms over her chest and returned his calm stare to prove it.

The two of them deadlocked, staring at each other, neither willing to let the other win. For quite possibly the first time in all of their eleven years, it was Charlie who relented, though he did so in typical Charlie fashion.

“You’re such a baby,” he snickered, playfully rolling his eyes at Allie. Then he brushed past her as he started across the street.

No, it's not perfect. But it's more "me" than what I had before, and I think I like it.