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I've reached a roadblock in the story here at chapter 4. It's frustrating on many levels. I have the end figured out, including a terrific tag. I'm almost tempted to start writing the end while I have the urge and then go back and connect it to the rest later. Actually, that's not a bad idea. I might do just that.
The problem with chapter 4 is I haven't figured out which direction I want to go next. The possibilities are numerous, and not one is striking me as more likely than another. I'm a little afraid of introducing too many new characters and making the whole thing too hard to follow. I'm also afraid of dipping to deep into drama and sacrificing the lightness that was characteristic of the program.
I'm going to post a small part of chapter 4, that by no means encompasses the whole of what that chapter is about, but I'm in two minds about this. I was hoping to post the next chapter by the beginning of the week, but I don't know. If what I have still stands, I'm about halfway done right now. It may take a bit longer to shape this up. Now I'm going to stop rambling and get back to work.
(Incidentally, I got some great new ear buds, and I have all the cares in the world drowned out by the Von Karajan-directed version of Mozart's Requiem. Beautiful beyond words.)
Mickey smiled demurely. “Are you going to call her?”
“I have to. You heard her; she wants pictures.”
Mickey bit off a French fry and smiled broadly. “How about for a second date?”
“Absolutely not,” Austin replied. He picked up his fork and prodded apart his potato with it.
“Why not?!”
“She’s an adrenaline junkie.” He paused to take a good-sized bite. After he swallowed, he went on. “Her attention span is minutes. She’s a raw food enthusiast. She doesn’t know Handel from Copland, and she lives in Santa Monica.”
Mickey leaned back and addressed the rafters. “Good grief, Austin, wasn’t there anything you liked about her?”
“She did have an interesting odor.”
“Odor? If that’s the only thing you approve of, I guess she shouldn’t get her hopes up.” She grimaced at him and took a bite of her burger. “How come it doesn’t bother you, being alone all the time?”
“I’m not alone,” he protested, pointing at her with his fork. “I told you, I have—“
“—the entire universe,” Mickey finished in unison with him. “But don’t you ever want more than that?”
He stared at her, fork frozen in mid-air, frowned. “You know that makes no sense.”
“I’m serious! What about human companionship? Wouldn’t it be nice to have someone to come home to, someone who gets your sense of humor and listens to your theories?”
He broke into an indulgent smile and took another bite of potato. “Mickey, I promise you, everything in the world I need to be happy is right here under this roof.” He cast his eyes up and around the expanse of the building and ended up back at Mickey. His deep blue eyes were alight with his convictions, and they captured hers and held them.
She knew what he meant to say. She knew he did not mean what, for a terribly awkward moment, she heard him say. But that simple knowing was not enough to beat down the blush that rose on her face. She tore her gaze away from his, studied the diamond pattern on her plate, and stuffed her mouth with a handful of fries.
The problem with chapter 4 is I haven't figured out which direction I want to go next. The possibilities are numerous, and not one is striking me as more likely than another. I'm a little afraid of introducing too many new characters and making the whole thing too hard to follow. I'm also afraid of dipping to deep into drama and sacrificing the lightness that was characteristic of the program.
I'm going to post a small part of chapter 4, that by no means encompasses the whole of what that chapter is about, but I'm in two minds about this. I was hoping to post the next chapter by the beginning of the week, but I don't know. If what I have still stands, I'm about halfway done right now. It may take a bit longer to shape this up. Now I'm going to stop rambling and get back to work.
(Incidentally, I got some great new ear buds, and I have all the cares in the world drowned out by the Von Karajan-directed version of Mozart's Requiem. Beautiful beyond words.)
Mickey smiled demurely. “Are you going to call her?”
“I have to. You heard her; she wants pictures.”
Mickey bit off a French fry and smiled broadly. “How about for a second date?”
“Absolutely not,” Austin replied. He picked up his fork and prodded apart his potato with it.
“Why not?!”
“She’s an adrenaline junkie.” He paused to take a good-sized bite. After he swallowed, he went on. “Her attention span is minutes. She’s a raw food enthusiast. She doesn’t know Handel from Copland, and she lives in Santa Monica.”
Mickey leaned back and addressed the rafters. “Good grief, Austin, wasn’t there anything you liked about her?”
“She did have an interesting odor.”
“Odor? If that’s the only thing you approve of, I guess she shouldn’t get her hopes up.” She grimaced at him and took a bite of her burger. “How come it doesn’t bother you, being alone all the time?”
“I’m not alone,” he protested, pointing at her with his fork. “I told you, I have—“
“—the entire universe,” Mickey finished in unison with him. “But don’t you ever want more than that?”
He stared at her, fork frozen in mid-air, frowned. “You know that makes no sense.”
“I’m serious! What about human companionship? Wouldn’t it be nice to have someone to come home to, someone who gets your sense of humor and listens to your theories?”
He broke into an indulgent smile and took another bite of potato. “Mickey, I promise you, everything in the world I need to be happy is right here under this roof.” He cast his eyes up and around the expanse of the building and ended up back at Mickey. His deep blue eyes were alight with his convictions, and they captured hers and held them.
She knew what he meant to say. She knew he did not mean what, for a terribly awkward moment, she heard him say. But that simple knowing was not enough to beat down the blush that rose on her face. She tore her gaze away from his, studied the diamond pattern on her plate, and stuffed her mouth with a handful of fries.
