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My humorous thoughts about life.

"My Humorous Thoughts About Life" Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor- Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor -Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor
Showing posts with label ya novel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ya novel. Show all posts

Saturday, July 19, 2014

Weekend Writing Warriors Blog Hop 7/20/14

Weekend Writing Warriors / #8sunday / 07/20/14



Since I've shown the dark side of my young adult manuscript, 
BEING BENITO CARLEFFA, this week I'll lighten things up with 
a humorous dinner time snippet between Ben and his father.

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After blowing on the red soup, I cautiously sipped it off the spoon. It's cold? Next I knew, I gagged, coughed, and thumped my chest. All this money, and these people couldn’t even heat the food.

     “You don't like the gazpacho?” Fiso asked. 

      I dropped my spoon on the table. Why would he mention the Gestapo? What was he, a modern day Nazi? Sure, everyone likes murderers. Sick. This guy’s really sick.


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Saturday, July 5, 2014

#8 Weekend Writing Warriors Blog Hop - Get's Musical

I'm glad to be a part of the Weekend Writing Warriors.

Weekend Writing Warriors / #8 Sunday / 07/06/14
www.wewriwa.com


A weekly festival of writers sharing excerpts from their work.  
Many different genres; something for everybody. 

     Here is a passage from my unpublished young adult manuscript called BEING BENITO CARLEFFA. I've included a short description below the passage to give background information if wanted. 

¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡
     “Here’s the deal, kid.” Carsa leaned close, brushed the handle of the strap down my jawbone, and used it to move my face so that I met his eyes and could almost taste his sour breath. The cold plastic grip dug into my cheek while its leather tail gently danced against my ribcage in a cruel tease. Once again, Carsa’s pupils widened with a three-second crazed expression then dwindled back to normal size as if drugs had returned him from his psychotic trip. 
    “You will not leave this room unscathed,” Carsa continued, “however a little cooperation could help.” He cracked the air beside me. Every muscle in my body tightened as a shiver shot down my spine. “Did your dad say two or three,” he grinned while stroking his torture device, “or was it five or six? Just can’t remember.” 
¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡

My teenage character had been kidnapped earlier in the day by employees of a mob boss father who he didn't know existed. The scene takes place in a dark study after Ben broke his father's Waterford lamp and used a glass shard as a weapon against Dad while cussing him out. Not that Ben's a bad kid, he's actually quite good, but he just learned that this scum bag killed his mom, and you can't blame him for being just a little ticked. Of course his father never does the dirty work. Why should he when he's got Carsa to wear the mud?

Compliments are great, but what I'm really looking for is the constructive criticism to take the passage to a new level. 

Thanks!
Joyce


Sorry I almost missed Musical Monday Moves Me. I'm vacationing in Hot Springs, Arkansas. Here's a quick musical addition to go with my writing.






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