I'm NOT dead!!!

I thought I wrote a post or two this summer. Apparently I did not. Sorry about that. I feel like I write so infrequently that people have probably given up on me by now. To anyone still reading, thank you! You are truly a gem!

So, what's new with me? I started school again. This is the beginning of the end. It's kind of really scary. I moved home to save money, and have been writing up a storm. A lot of what I've been writing is really terrible, but has a lot of potential. This is the part of writing I dislike. The writing things out knowing that you're going to have to go back and rewrite it again. I know that in the end I'll be so happy with the result, but right now it's just hard to think about. All the work. All the edits. All the criticism. I try to not think about them and focus on the exciting beginning parts.

I wrote three stories on Thursday. In all three stories, someone dies. Apparently I am a killer, fictionally speaking.

I started a story about a girl who knows that she's unique and different than anyone else but has to hide who she is for a time because no one would understand who she is or how amazing she is. She's got super powers (because why not?!) and she meets a boy that looks like superman and they become friends. This is funny because she's the one with the super powers. ha ha. Here, I'll share a little bit of the story with you. It's a Flash Fiction piece, and it's a very very rough draft, but I hope you like it:

I was five. It was a Tuesday. Dad had just taken me to the comic book store. The newest Captain America comic had come out, so obviously I needed it. Mom never understood. Tuesdays were not her favorite days.

Dad's funeral was on a Tuesday. I remember because Mom took me to the comic book store after. I think she was trying to take my mind off of him dying, but she didn't realize that the whole trip permanently associated Tuesdays with Dad's funeral. She was a mess. Couldn't stop crying. No one could blame her. A widow at twenty eight with a freak for a daughter.

I was never like the other kids. Dad got that, Mom struggled. She always wanted the pretty little princess of a girl. I have always preferred comic books to fairy tales. This is really when my love for Tuesdays began. See, kids picked on me at school so the first Tuesday of my second grade year, Dad took me to the comic book store. Superman, Batman, Iron Man, all of them were there. I seemed to understand them, and they me. I drank them in like water on a hot day.

I grew up alone. Kind of like Spiderman; except without the radioactive spider bite. I was more like Superman in that I came by my “abilities” from birth.

My dad always told me that I was born with open eyes so I could take in everything. I still miss him sometimes. It's an odd sensation-missing someone. There's nothing you can do to see or hear from them again, and yet it's like they are just barely out of reach.

On this particular Tuesday, I was really missing Dad. I went to pick up the new Wolverine comic. Last weeks had been a cliffhanger and I was dying to know what happened. I walked in to the old store. It smelled like old books and cigarette smoke. A couple of kids played on the pinball machine. I saw Lenny, the owner.

“Hey kid. Come for the new one?” He sounded like he was from Brooklyn, which is funny because he grew up in Clevland.

“Yeah, you got it?” I asked, pretty sure of the answer.

“Is it Tuesday?” Was his response. Yes. It was Tuesday, most blessed of days. Lenny pulls it straight from the box and hands it to me. I hand over the cash with exact change. He counts it and laughs as he opens the register with a ding.

“I'll never understand how you do that.” He talks to me, but neither of us are actually paying attention to each other.

“It's a talent.” I say as an afterthought, completely engrossed in my new comic. I walk out the door without looking and run into something. My glasses go flying and I find myself sprawled on the ground, which has never happened to me before. I tend to be a little more on the Superman side in that aspect too.

“Hi, I'm Clark. I just moved here from Kansas.” He holds out his hand for me to shake. Is this guy for real?

“Hi, I'm Emi. I'm from here.” I say as I take his hand. We shake hands briefly and then he takes a step away to pick up my glasses. I put them back on, even though I don't need them and take him in. He's taller than me, has dark curl hair, I'm guessing his plaid shirt comes in several colors, and he probably owns them all. Before I get ahead of myself, I turn to him and say,

“So, Clark, how do you feel about Tuesdays?” A grin crosses his face.

“It's the best day of the week. Is that the new Wolverine comic?! I was just going to buy it!”

“Yes. And this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship, Clark. I just know it.”

..... ...... .....so..... ........ .......what did you think? It's jumpy, timeline wise, but I have a hard time staying in one place. Especially when I'm working on LIGHTS, which I currently am. Ah LIGHTS. Have I mentioned lately how much I LOVE that story? Time travel, attractive men, fighting, drama. *sigh* it's just so fantastic. I love it. 

I rewrote the beginning of LIGHTS and have added so much to the story. It is so much better than what I started with. The idea behind it is so much deeper and broader. Oh my gosh, I love it. SO. MUCH. 

I also have an idea in my head of who I would like to play both Ian and Donnavan in the movie (because it's totally going to happen). And here they are:

This guy, here, is who I see playing Donnavan. Dark hair, kind of mysterious, totally capable of being a completely devious character that is out to destroy all that is good and light. Yep. I have found my Donnavan. His real name is Jackson Hurst and he is from the TV show Drop Dead Diva, which is a favorite of mine. Total guilty pleasure show. The ironic thing is he plays a really nice decent human being on that show and I want him to be the villain. I think he can do it. 

And this guy over here is who I picture playing Ian. I actually met him last weekend at Comic Con, and it was further proof that I was right in wanting to cast him. He is a genuinely nice person in real life, which is always a plus. He's from the TV show Arrow as the main guy, Oliver Queen. His real name is Stephen Amell. 

And I know what you're thinking, But Sooz, WHAT ABOUT TOM?!?!?!?!?! It is indeed a very good question. But I can't cast Tom Hiddleston in all my movies. That would get boring. 

Well, I hope you have a fantastic week! Or month! Or however long it takes for me to write again!!