Many of you may or may not have heard about my two successful NaNoWriMo runs. This year, I plan to go for it a third time. The only problem is that all these ideas in my head brew and evolve on their own, leaving me with a very tough choice. If I were to ask you to help me nominate a project for November, which one would you pick? I'd very much like to hear your picks and your thoughts, so please feel free to reply to this entry, e-mail me or contact me through Twitter and Facebook.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Their own interest and the emotion of the tale were enough for Barbara and Maria to keep quiet and not laugh at their friend’s deep red face.
“Isn’t it?” added Barbara.
An impish and triumphant grin appeared on Freya’s features. This seed of victory granted her the drive to make it through five minutes of relentless interrogation about even the smallest detail on that meeting: time, place, witnesses and almost wind direction. Every answer was given with an anxious and giddy tone; this was one of the only times where Freya could share so much about herself, though every now and then she withdrew back into her usual shy self.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Freya met Marco one day after coming home from school. He was in the main square of a park, playing lazy notes in his red guitar. His fingers ran through the frets of the instrument like a lifelong traveler, never missing a beat. An unkempt stubble made him at least three years older than Freya, but something in his melancholic and deep air made her heart race. Maybe it was his artistic sensibilities in a world where human reason counters all, or his indifference towards it; in short, he was an enigma she was hungry and thirsty for.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
The first period of classes had reached its conclusion, or at least that’s what the ringing of the bell told. Freya breathed a long yawn while fixing the neck of her school sweater, then she set her elbows on her desk and rested her chin on soft palms. The psychology class had been as interesting as the tardy road from home to school due to morning traffic. Freya was already sorry without having her father remind her how late it had gotten due to so many distractions; however, it wasn’t a case of major regret either. It all came down to being a little more efficient and aware when waking up.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Freya spent more than ten minutes in front of the mirror, playing a game of smiles with herself. Her white teeth seemed to glow with the pink of her lips. There wasn’t a single change of expression in her features that could be missed, a quality she often did not realized.