Nothing’s gonna stop us now

Mood: good  Music: Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now - Starship  Reading: Morning is Long Time Coming

Day 01 -> Your favourite song
Day 02 -> Your favourite movie
Day 03 -> Your favourite television program
Day 04 -> Your favourite book
Day 05 -> Your favourite quote
Day 06 -> Whatever tickles your fancy
Day 07 -> A photo that makes you happy
Day 08 -> A photo that makes you angry/sad
Day 09 -> A photo you took
Day 10 -> A photo of you taken over ten years ago
Day 11 -> A photo of you taken recently
Day 12 -> Whatever tickles your fancy
Day 13 -> A fictional book

Me, C’est Moi

Me, after The Beatles’ Love show at the Mirage last night. Fantastic show, so highly recommended there aren’t enough words to justify my love for it. See what I did there?

Story Excerpt

So I’ve had my writing demons visit me the last week. Two very different stories, but so me. Here’s one, tentatively titled “An Idol Story.” It’s actually a story I’d like to make into a feature film someday. If I could ever learn how to write screenplays haha. But I figure if I get the story written I can sell it at some later date. Wish me luck!

She looked much younger than her 23 years. She kneeled at the pulpit, her hands grasped in a pious manner. Her abuela’s black veil – the one she made as a child in Mexico – sits on her granddaughter’s head, covering her just enough to be proper. She mumbled the same prayers she has said all of her life as the priest says the rites of Mass that have barely changed since they began. She stands when she is told; she sits when the music stops. She dutifully helps her abuela in and out of the pew for the Body and Blood of Christ. After the Mass, she is her abuela’s living walking stick, walking slowly, Abuelita gripping onto her arm for dear life, greeting the other parishioners, and paying their respects to Father Marcus, as they leave St. Joan of Arc’s. The blowdryer heat of another lazy Sunday afternoon in Las Vegas greeted them as they followed the others out towards the parking lot. She helped Abuelita get into the car and drove them home.

Her mother, a chinita, already had lunch going, and the three of them spoke animatedly over lunch as her little cousins and nieces and nephews from both sides of the family ran around the house. Her tios and tias had already eaten and were gossiping all over the house. Her papa is playing pool with her Uncle Louis from her mother’s side and her older brother Patricio. She smiled a big smile when her favorite little cousin Lara led her boyfriend Trent into the room. A tall, skinny California surfer boy with laughing blue eyes lights up the room. She glances silently at Abuelita who nods, giving her permission to leave. She and the boy say hello goodbye to everyone at the house; they tease her for dating a white boy, but they love him. He’s a good fit for their mestisa niece.

They hop in his Acura and drive, no particular place to go. The sun is fading fast. The wind coming through the windows is whipping her hair from her face. The music flowing from his car speakers makes her realize there is no other place she’d rather be. He smiled at her, lusting as only a 27 year old would feel for his true love. They find a quiet spot somewhere out there and proceed to make love in the backseat, steaming up the windows, like they have done so many times before. She was sure he was the one, because no one had made her feel this way. They fall asleep in each other’s arms but wake up not 45 minutes later, as it is getting dark and she has an early class the next day. She wants to wrap herself inside, outside and around him, hoping he’ll drive slow enough to get her fill before saying their goodbyes. A construction zone prevents him from taking the usual way home; today, he has to use the path that brings them near the train tracks.

Maybe the music was too loud; maybe they were too wrapped up in their shameless thoughts to hear the train until it was too late. His car stalled on the railroad tracks, and it all became like a bad horror movie in slow motion. All he remembers is unbuckling and leaping out of the car. The insurance people said her seat belt was jammed.

She didn’t survive.

A fictional book

I wrote a review on this book when I had my review site open. I stand by that review, it’s a fantastic read. Of Murakami’s other works, I’ve read “Sputnik Sweetheart” for school. I bought a couple of his books, including the hardcover of “After Dark.” I think I’ll crack it open again soon. I need to get some inspiration for my stories.