NaNo-ventures

{{Deep breath}} Okay, my fellow NaNo-ers and lovely PNN friends, as this is my first time really writing fiction, I decided to follow JennyAppleseed's lead and let you see a bit of my NaNo-venture.  I would love to hear your constructive criticism - what works so far, what doesn't, what you want to read next, do you like the main character so far?  (Please note: this has NOT been edited so expect grammatical errors, typos, etc. which I will address later).

We’ve all had them.  Moments where we start to rethink our place in life.  I wouldn’t call it regret…more like doubt.  Did I head in the right direction when I'd stumbled upon a choice between two totally divergent paths?  Of course this is precisely what I was thinking about moments before I was shot.

By all accounts, I shouldn’t be alive any longer.  The gun used on me was one normally saved for large game.  But, as often happens in life, people use what they’ve got.  What this guy had was a large caliber hunting rifle, usually reserved for taking down rhino or elephant.  Me? I’m just about 100lbs soaking wet, so overkill is an understatement.

Lucky for me, I wasn’t alone…though my luck turned out to be the downfall of others. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to let go of that.

The shift nurse, Abby, walks in with a silly grin on her face, “You’ve got a gorgeous visitor coming up...do you want help sorting yourself out?” 

“Um, yeah, wait, no, I’m in hospital for chrissakes, I can’t be worried about make up!”

“Really? Alright…”

“Well, okay, just pass me my handbag, I’ll put on some lip balm”, I sigh.

Moments later as Abby finishes fussing around with my annoying IV drip line, I hear the crisp footfall of men’s dress shoes stop outside the room.  Abby straightens up and squeaks a quick goodbye as the door opens.

It was then that I knew exactly where I wanted to be…and, sadly, it was no where near here. 

No doubt about it, the man was good looking.  I’d fantasized about men like him most of my life.  Tall and masculine without being too butch or too pretty;  he’s just so totally pleasant to look at with his dark wavy hair and light eyes, slightly crooked smile and straight, but prominent nose.  Devon had a way about him that just made you smile when you saw him.  And believe me - he used this gift to its full advantage. 

Swinging through the door, his shoes allowed him to almost slide into the room as if on ice.  He turned to wink at Abby as she slipped by out the door, before turning his full attention to me. 

“K, sweetheart, I hope you’re up to having a visitor?” he asks without a hint of uncertainty about what my answer might be.

Before I could help myself, I felt the corners of my mouth lift in a mirrored smirk.  I wondered how I was going to face the conversation ahead, but realized I truly didn’t have the energy to fight his beguiling energy.

“You know I’ve always got time to chat with a good looking guy,” I say skipping a beat, “have you brought someone with you?”

Devon pulls a straight-backed, thinly padded hospital chair over to my bedside, “Oh darling, don’t beat me up, I’ve practically taken the whole day off to come and entertain your decadent little bed-ridden body!”

The problem is, despite whatever witty repartee we might be able to easily indulge, we both know that there are serious issues ahead and neither of us has been particularly keen to confront them before now.

It’s quite surprising to me, to be truthful, since even growing up I was a practical little girl who liked to get serious talks out into the open – much to the chagrin of my childhood friends.  Let’s face it, no one really wants to have deep discussions at all hours of a slumber party when you could be talking about your fantasy life with the latest Tiger Beat cover star or playing M-A-S-H to find out your future home life with the swish, swish of a bit of folded paper.  No, I wasn’t the most popular girl for my proclivity to discuss matters of a metaphysical or ethical or philosophical bent.

But as I grew up, and finally moved past my irrational fear of talking to boys, I had discovered quickly that “boys” whether they are truly youthful or just emotionally stunted, did NOT like to have serious discussions about personal issues.  I can’t say for sure if this was the reason I’d had such a hard time hanging on to a guys for longer than the blink of an eye, but I can’t deny that it might’ve played a major part.