I pop open my laptop. I stretch out my hands. Ding!

I open the application. There’s a blinking cursor. I get to work.

There was D. He sat next to me, as leaves the shade of brown paper bags fell across the windshield.

“You don’t know what love is. You’ve never been in love.”

I knew he was wrong.

I’m highlighting sections I might delete. Wow, what was I thinking when I wrote this?  Totally unnecessary. No subtlety what-so-ever.

Then there was P. My rebound guy. The pollen in the air was making my eyes itchy.

“I like what we have together.”

Oh really? I think. Then why are you so terrified to share what we have with everyone else?

I’m deleting a whole passage. I’m starting from scratch.

I don’t want to do it, though. Like a father pulling his kid to the dentist office, I pull my will to the letters. Sit here. It’s good for you.

It’s a perfect sunset in Half-Moon bay. We’re holding each other. Me and Y. The smell of sea foam and sand in the air.

“I don’t want to forget this moment.”

Neither do I.

I’m getting hungry. I don’t ever leave my station, though. You never know who might come by… This thing’s the most important thing I own. I need to go to the bathroom, but I hold it. It sort of helps. Makes me work, instead of procrastinate. Gives writing a sense of suspense, more than it really has. I’m a little thirsty. A snack might be good, too. You know it would be nice to have someone–stop it. Back to work.

We’re in T’s apartment. We’re watching Battlestar Galactica. The hot summer sun blasts through his window. He closes the curtain.

“I can’t wait to see what happens,” he says.

“It gets better.”

Eventually, T finds out that I’m right. But I won’t be around to see his reaction.

Perfect. That was perfect. I think that sentence might stay the same even after every, single revision I will ever make. It’s like a diamond in the rough. Ooooh. Ahhh. Maybe the only sentence that will survive. The only one that will make it to the end. I carefully move the cursor around the sentence, like it’s some extinct species. For god sakes, I got to be careful: I don’t want to accidentally erase it! I’m gonna keep it. The sentence makes me proud. It shines like a trophy, it does. That one sentence. All alone. You know this all might be easier if–Stop it.

B reaches over to give me a hug. I reluctantly give him one back.

“I can’t wait to see you when I move down here,” he says.

“Me either.”

I’m lying. I won’t see him. I’ll break up with him in a week. He’s the one crying this time. Not me.

I spellcheck. It’s just part of the routine. I format a little. Just for me. I like looking at pretty fonts. I’ve looked at Times New Roman all through college, I need a break. I press “Save As.” Its improved, so I give it a different name. The chapter gets its own folder now. I close everything.

For a moment, I pause. I did good today. I actually got some work done. I look around the library. Nobody knows what I’m doing. They probably think I’m studying for an exam. Writing a paper for college. But I’m not in college. Doing something for “work.” But this isn’t my “day job.” I’m a writer. I just finished my daily routine, and wouldn’t it be nice if someone came along after and said: “How’d it go today, babe?”

It’s a nice thought. But I don’t linger on it too much. I’m happy, anyways. I’m half-way there.

much love,


>>> Novel Update: Done with Ch. 9, now on to Ch. 10. I’m officially half-way through my first draft.

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Categories: Writer's Journal