So, I made an impulsive decision the other night that after the month of relative hell I'd experienced, I deserved a slightly-extended vacation. I was supposed to drive back to NJ with Luc yesterday afternoon/evening and today, but instead, I'm staying in Chattanooga until Thursday evening. It's relaxing, I'm having a great time, and I'm even getting exercise!
One of the reasons I love it here so much is that everyone pretty much treats me as "me"; not as some agent with super-powers; not as someone who holds the fate of their novel in their hands; just as Jenny, this writer who's working on improving things. It's refreshing. I like being just "me" sometimes; I think we all do. =) Our careers are part of our lives, but they're not who we entirely are.
Today, four of us took a break from doing writer things and went to Ruby Falls. I walked almost a mile underground, saw some pretty cool cave things, and then this giant underground waterfall. It was extremely humid there, but pretty neat, nonetheless. And it was exercise! Then, we all went out to lunch, and had a nice leisurely meal.
This evening, writer David B. Coe drove over to visit us, and he was a treat to meet. We picked his brain for the evening, and fed him trout, pecan pie, and port. A good time was had by all.
And best of all, since I almost get no writing done, EVER--I have written words these last two days! 1209 words on a science fiction story entitled "Mrs. Smith", which I'm collaborating on with my friend, Jodi Meadows. And look, I can be like fancy writers do all the time on their blogs and post a snippet for you all to read... sparkly, I know. =)
“Mr. Smith has a bit of a problem. A very personal problem. Let me say that he is unable to sustain interest in our marital relations.”
“Oh, you poor dear.” Mrs. Jones patted Mrs. Smith on the hand. “And you want a child so badly.”
“Exactly. Which is why when little Jane spoke out in church last night—I was mortified.”
Mrs. Smith attempted to make her cheeks red, thinking of all the humiliating things that had ever happened to her in her life before the prison. A blush would help convince the wardens. She thought about the routine gynecological exam that had doomed her to this place because of a trace amount of contraceptives left in her system, and even managed to eke out a tear.
“I have found that prayer is what keeps me going,” Mrs. Jones said. “If I have enough faith in the Fathers, I will one day be blessed by a baby.”
Prayer to false gods wasn’t what she needed now. She needed a way out. But first she needed another piece of pie. She cut herself a large second slice.