Harken!
The life and times of Mica J. L.Archive for Uncategorized
Another excerpt.
The Levesque family lived in Arles, a small city somewhat south west of Paris. Adeline Levesque, Marie’s mother, ran a little hotel a short distance from the town square. The buildings were built right up to the winding byways, former cart paths that had been first cobbled when the roman conquerors occupied the region. Trees lined the roads, stretching their round green leaves up over the rooftops like living paintbrushes, yearning to capture some fragment of sunlight.
There was much competition for the sunlight, given the multitude of botanical life, which grew in profusion, even in the very center of the town. Every house had its own garden, even if it was pots on the back steps, or a wizened fruit tree trained to grow along a wall. Window boxes abounded with red and yellow geraniums and trailing vines with variegated leaves that tumbled down from even second story windows to the street. The buildings themselves looked strangely organic- as if they’d grown up there just like the grapevines, which were absolutely everywhere.
The train station was the biggest, and newest, building in town, with an elegant roofline and filigreed carvings adorning it. It had a large clock with ornate hands that, like all the clocks in town, chimed every hour, on the hour. There were several churches distributed throughout the town, all of them old (to varying degrees) and most fantastically decorated. When the bells chimed in unison the air seemed to be almost heavy with the combined noise.
Outside of town farms spread out, oddly shaped fields tucked between the vineyards, squeezed into any space not used for growing grapes. The railway made a straight line across this irregular patchwork, carrying people and goods to and fro over the verdant landscape. The only blemishes- the only scars- were the great gouges in the living earth, tracks made by engines of war, hulking armored cars driven by stern faced young men, far from home, here to kill.
that is all. <3
-M
NaNoWriMo- I’m insane.
ahahaha. yes. I’m doing NaNoWriMo this year. Kill me NOW. I am sure I will fail, but I dearly want to try. My mother is doing it as well. aheheh… ^^;;;;
NaNoWriMo profile:
Title: Getting to Know Dead Relatives
Genre(s): Historical Fiction/ Romance/ GLB&T
Main Characters: Andre (Math Geek, Gay, has a dead mother), Jon (lawyer, Andre’s father), Marie (in the flashbacks, Andre’s grandmother, French Resistance fighter), Rene (also in the flashbacks, Andre grandfather, French Resistance fighter), Gerard (more flashbacks, Marie’s brother, gay, killed by Nazis because of that). …and possibly others.
Story: Andre’s mother dies in a car accident, leaving him with a box of letters from his grandmother. As he read them he discovers paralells between his life and that of his grandmothers, and by the end of the box he has pretty much worked through his grief for his mother, got a cute boyfriend, and speaks to his dad again. yay!
Excerpt 1: “The clouds that had been threatening all day opened up just then, and the windshield was covered in dancing droplets of water, which nicely matched the waterworks occurring inside the car. Jon flicked the wipers on, and they began their rhythmic journey to nowhere, swishing back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.
After driving in silence for a time, Jon spoke again. “Y’know, when you were a baby, and you threw tantrums in the car, all I had to do was to turn on the windshield wipers. You would quiet right down, and just watch them. They fascinated you to no end.” He chuckled, but it was more with anxiousness than amusement.
“Stupid reminiscences won’t make me like you.” Andre said sourly, still talking to the window. But he wasn’t crying anymore. Maybe it was the windshield wipers.
Jonathon sighed. “It would be nice if you liked me, but that’s not what I was asking. I was planning on groveling before your feet, then apologizing some more. Then maybe inviting you to my house for thanksgiving?”
“I can’t believe you’re asking me this. For years not a word, not a letter, not a call, then mom dies and suddenly you want us to be all lovey-dovey like nothing ever happened? Like you never left?” He sounded pained.
“Andre, that’s not what I’m saying. I just think that it is high time for us to stop acting like strangers-” He began.
“And whose fault is that? Tell me, do I still disgust you? Or have you worked past the ‘I hate all faggots’ stage?” He finally looked at his father, to see his reaction to the question.
Jon winced. “Yes, I do believe I have worked past the ‘I hate all f-faggots stage’ as you so charmingly put it. And to set the record strai- I mean to get things strai- um… To clear the matter up, I never hated you. Ever. I could never hate you. Please remember that.”
Andre had to laugh. It was the first time he had laughed in over a week, and it felt good. His father trying to find a way to say what he meant without using the word ‘straight’ was a memory that he suspected he would treasure for a long time. Jon looked surprised at the unexpected giggle from his son, and glanced over in confusion.
“He he, it’s just- I’m not allergic to the word faggot. Or straight. You don’t have to dance around the issue. You could though. It’s funny.”
Jon found himself smiling at Andre’s mirth “Alright then, what should I say, oh wise one?”
“Just don’t say anything at all and maybe I can forgive you…eventually…” His smile faded as they pulled into the parking lot of the reception hall. “
It’s Andre!
there ya go chicas!
-teh M
Weekend. *tired* *busy* *headdesk*
I just drew an emo Jerry, a preppie Amy, and I’m working on Addie as a modern left winger. Don’t ask. It’s for halloween. I’m enjoying it. Gawd, Jerry looks great as an emo boy… tight pants ^^. I may use one all or none of them… hmm…
I have to go do PSAT testing this morning (ftw saturday morning? school? nyooo! ) So, cha.
In other news, I have some new music, which always makes me happy. More oooold Crosby, Stills, & Nash. ^^ Also some Regina Spector. I have strange taste in…everything…
SEMI-AMUSING STORY:
My sleep schedule is so screwed up. Okay, here’s the rundown. On thursday night I forgot to set my alarm. For MOST people that means they oversleep, right? Yeah, but not for me. I woke up at 3:16 am because I remembered I forgot to set my alarm. Do I suck or what? But wait, there’s more! I set the alarm, and procede to be unable to fall back aspleep until 5:00 or so…and then the alarm went off at 5:15. and I had gone to bed past eleven that night. All in all, under four hours of sleep. But I could catch up on thursday night, right? Um, wrong. Thursdays are my RISD class in providence, which means we get home at, oh, 10:30 pm. If we’re lucky. And I had to read the entire constitution and study spanish that night. So I didn’t get much sleep, needless to say. But I could sleep in on saturday morning, and get a full night’s sleep friday night, RIGHT? BUT NO! I CANNOT! PSAT TESTING TODAY! So I’m awake (unwillingly), pissed off, and blogging about it. bah.
-teh (tired) M
well, now…
indeed, another blog. I’m rather silly, but I just didn’t find that LiveJournal was working for me. soooo… I’m trying this out. stand by for…stuff… ^^
