First about my goals. Had a bad week last week. Only got three chapters done. So, as I’ve missed my goal of six chapters for two weeks now, I’m going to revise the goal to four. I think part of the reason I’ve been missing my goal is too many late nights and not waking up early enough for my morning writing (I actually missed writing on Friday altogether), but also, I’m comparing with the first week of my novel polish when I did nine chapters, but those were chapters that had already been worked through a few times, and the ones I’m doing now aren’t in quite as good shape. So, new goal: 4 chapters a week. That means I should be done in about four and a half weeks from now, so, by the end of the first week in April. My first editor submission deadline from the SCBWI Houston Editor’s Day is Aug. 21, so that’s plenty of time.
And now, onto the Monday Community Story. The whole story so far is pasted below, with my latest addition in the last section. You can decide what happens next by posting a comment with what you think the next sentence or paragraph should be. That sentence or paragraph will become part of the full story next Monday.
Happy Community Storying…
Bonnie’s eyes flickered open as she laid on her back looking up at the sky. She caught a brief glimpse of a person moving away from a ledge 30 feet above her. Slightly dazed, she was not sure if she had fallen or been pushed, but what she did know was that her back was hurt and her head was throbbing from her fall. She lifted her right hand to her head. Wet. She was bleeding, and it didn’t feel like a cut that could be patched up with a Band Aid. It would have to wait, though. She could hear footsteps, and they were getting closer and more urgent.
Wincing against the pain that now radiated from her back as well as her head, Bonnie eased herself up to a sitting position and surveyed her surroundings. She had landed on a patch of soft grass nestled between two rock faces, and to her right was what looked like a drop off. She tried to stand, careful not to make any noise. But as her elbow buckled in pain, her hand knocked a small rock over the edge. She froze, waiting for the sound of the crash to alert the other people. But when no noise came, she looked over the edge and her head began to spin. The drop off was at least a hundred feet, ending in white caps of a rushing river.
Something hit the back of Bonnie’s head and she looked up. A rope had been thrown down from the ledge above her and a head was peering over the side. Panic rushed into Bonnie’s mind. “Climb up!” The head from above was shouting at her. But Bonnie didn’t know what to do. Was the head friend or foe? And really, what other choices did she have?
She grabbed the twisted rope and as she did, a FLASH popped into her mind. Wind rushed into her ears as she flew from the green Cadillac. Two quick glimpses of sky and earth and her face crunched against the rocky Tennessee soil.
That’s right. She had been in a car crash. No, not a crash, she remembered. She had jumped out of the car while it was still moving. But why would she do that? Or was she pushed? “Climb up!” the voice above her insisted again. Bonnie wished she could remember more.
The footsteps around the ledge were closer now and accompanied by shouts in a language Bonnie didn’t understand. She couldn’t see who owned the voices, but something told her they weren’t friendly. She wasn’t sure about the head above her either, but, as she looked over the hundred feet drop-off at the edge of her ridge, she knew she didn’t have much choice. She was going to have to trust someone — at least for now. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed the rope and began to pull.
Every muscle in her body ached as she dragged herself up the mountainside to the ledge above. She could see the head disappearing then appearing again. As she got closer, Bonnie realized there was concern in the person’s eyes. But still, she told herself, that doesn’t mean she can trust them. As her left hand reached for the edge of the ledge, her right hand balled into a fist, ready to strike as soon as she was on steady ground.
A hand reached over the ledge and pulled Bonnie up the last few feet. The head that had seemed so distant from below now looked strange. Bonnie had no recollection of this person whatsoever. She squinted, as though through slits she might get a better idea of who owned this face. A memory just began to poke into her brain, when everything went white and Bonnie collapsed on the floor.
The next part is up to you! Post the next sentence or paragraph in the comments and it’ll be included in the full story next Monday.
The smell of wet newspaper filtered into her nose pulling Bonnie from her daze.
Her eyes slid open like withered old windows to reveal a dark wet room of block concrete and hanging lawn equipment.
The only trace of life in this gray room was a small green plant standing as proudly as a three-inch plant could stand, almost as if the plant were in defiance of it’s terrible living condition.
Bonnie sat up but her pounding brain quickly pulled her flat on her back again. She lay on a steel table, cold and slightly wet.
Her eyes opened again and then she heard footsteps.
Thanks, Imatk! That’s great. I love the way you’ve taken where I left off and placed the character in a totally new environment, and it works great with the story line. Love it!
Anyone else got a next sentence or paragraph? Move the story forward from Imatk’s “footsteps”…