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Showing posts with label #YA. Show all posts
Showing posts with label #YA. Show all posts

Saturday, September 13, 2014

Weekend Writing Warriors : September 14

Weekend Writing Warriors



Check out more posts at:
http://www.wewriwa.com

After last weeks post, I figured I'd jump ahead to this snippet from chapter two where Ben is curious as to why some stranger would call him "Benito." And yes, you missed it, but the weird dude and friend chased Ben.


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       I debated about how much to tell my worry wart mom who'd freak if she knew about the guys who chased me, yet curiosity and fear bugged the shit out of me. I took two steps away from her and then spun around to head back. “Is my real name Ben, or is it short for something else?”
       “Why you ask?”
       “Someone called me, Benito.”
       The color drained from Mom's face as her eyes widened and she covered her mouth with her shaking fingers. Our conversation was cut short when the doorbell chimed and was followed by a loud pounding sound. I stared at the door without moving.

      
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Saturday, September 6, 2014

Weekend Writing Warriors, September 6

Weekend Writing Warriors




Another week is beginning, which means it's time to share
 writing snippets at:  http://www.wewriwa.com


Here is the continuation from last week. 
You know a fight is imminent!


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Bryson threw a punch, but I ducked and then body-slammed him into the wall.
            “Way to go, Benito!” The stranger outside the window cheered and clapped.
            I let go of Bryson and stared at the man outside. Is he talking to me? My heart sped up as his bug eyes tore through me.
            “Benito?” Bryson laughed. “Is your name Be-ni-to?
            “No. I’m Ben.” I stared out the window and shook my head as though I could clear away all of my confusing thoughts with a quick shake. "Just Ben." 


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Saturday, August 30, 2014

Weekend Writing Warriors 8/31/14

It's time for another Weekend Writing Warriors!



Check out eight line snippets at: http://www.wewriwa.


Here's another snippet from my YA manuscript, BEING BENITO CARLEFFA.


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I swung my backpack over one shoulder and then noticed Bryson shoving Austin. The big guy towered a full foot over little Austin and could have easily fit his victim into one of his pant legs.
“Leave him alone, Bryson.” I stepped close enough to see three blackheads surrounding a red splotch on Bryson’s cheek. He must have picked something open, again.
            Bryson’s chest rose and fell as he curled his hands into tight fists. “Always snooping in other people’s business, aren’t you, tool?”
            “Just looking out for my friend, douche.” 

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Saturday, August 23, 2014

Weekend Writing Warriors - 8/24/14


   Weekend Writing Warriors
8/24/14

 
Come join the hop to read an awesome eight from published and unpublished authors at: http://www.wewriwa.

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I know I'd already posted my first eight lines of my manuscript, but I decided on a rewrite as a result of a critiquer's advice. Hopefully this new beginning will jump the reader, agent, or editor into the story sooner.
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       I tried to focus on Ms. Link’s daily review, but it was pointless once I’d spotted the fat guy outside. He had hung under a tree for the past half hour with his bug eyes aimed straight at me, or at least it seemed that way. I rubbed my hand over my stiff neck and noticed that my shoulders had inched upwards. Knowing I had to stop this stalker, I got out of my chair and headed toward the window. Maybe if I closed it, he wouldn’t be able to see inside.
       “Ben, what are you doing?” Ms. Link asked.
       “Sorry, m’am. I was cold. Thought I’d close the window.”

       “I don’t think so,” she sang. “You can’t do that to a menopausal women. I’ll be burning like the steel under Carnegie’s furnaces.”


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Saturday, August 16, 2014

Weekend Writing Warriors / 08/17/14

Weekend Writing Warriors
8/17/14



Here are seven lines from my unpublished manuscript. Advice is always accepted.      
      
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     Pinging came from a flag hook tapping its pole outside the open window. Thinking about soccer, I checked for storm clouds when I spotted a bug-eyed, fat guy leaning on a Cadillac. He fixed his gaze my way causing a tingle to creep up the back of my neck. Even though the guy was just a random stranger, my heart raced at the mere sight of him standing under the ominous clouds. My shoulders inched upward as tension filled my core. Taking a deep breath, I turned to Sara. “Let’s go.”