Erin, this is a really intriguing piece-- is this the whole of it or is it a springboard for something bigger?

Anyhow, I like the stream-of-consciousness nature of it-- has a very "sitting on the windowsill ruminating" or as if she's watching the last of her girlfriends get married-- as if she's having this internal monologue while some moment of note is happening in RL.

When do we become women? Is it just easier to consider myself a girl, to abdicate responsibilities with this claimed title?

Wonderful line and really ties in beautifully with the final line. The only complaint I might have is that if this is the whole of the piece, a little too much of it is dedicated to Tina and blowing Marco-- it almost becomes more about her than about your narrator.

Doing something about it, on the other hand…now, that’s real easy to avoid. I’ve been doing it all my life

That line alone. Lines. Ouch. I mean, OUCH. That's way too familiar to me. To everyone who says knowing is half the battle? Nope, it's 5%.

Allyson, I'm sorry I haven't been around. I have a window tomorrow--send me whatever you need me to look at, I'll get it back to you by COB tomorrow. Will that be soon enough?

I should have some time later in the week, too, if it's not that urgent.

Erin, that's really powerful stuff.

stumbles into thread

I ...

I think I'm done with the manuscript. 60,485 words total. Pete is upstairs working on the art right now. (He's got another week before his deadline.)

Um. Done. This feels so weird.

whoa, congratulations Jilli. That's quite an accomplishment.

Jilli, you're amazing. Congratulations!

Yay! Jilli! Can't wait to see it! Good job!

Barb, yes, this is all pretty much unedited beginning material for something book-length. It's not superorganized right now, but I'm just getting it down and and going over it with a very wide tooth comb and seeing if it's got legs.

Thanks, sarameg, and Beverly. Should I toss more up as I have it? I've gotten about 8 pages today, but not all of the ready for show.

Hey, look at me! I'm writing -- crazy!

Thanks, Bev, insent. A whole weekend of writing, over 5k words, Chelsea Morning was a beast.

A fourth grade teacher told me it reads like Stellaluna if it had been an epic. Which was lovely. I'm half insane, BTW.

If Jilli was a bat...

SMACK! “TAG! YOU’RE IT!”

Sam had just been bonked on the head by a common pipistrelle bat who zoomed off into the night, giggling. She was tiny, no bigger than a mouse, with long, curvy wings from tail to shoulders. She was round and had fluffy, deep brown fur with a pitch-black face that looked a bit like a mask stretched across her snout.

“Hey! Wait! Wait for me!” Sam called to her.

He heard her giggle in the distance and followed her between the trees, gulping up moths and other insects along the way.

“Can’t catch me, Mr. Wiggle Tail!” the mischievous bat called back to Sam.

“I’m not Mr. Wiggle Tail, I’m Sam!” Sam chattered back to her.

Her voice was musical, like Renny’s. Unlike Renny, her tone didn’t have that gritty feeling of something dark and sinister underneath that gave him the shivers. She flew like Renny, in that sort of zigzag pattern that was one part evasive and two parts dance.

They passed by a great castle, and then flittered past a statue in Belgrave Square of a strange looking man with four arms and four legs trapped inside a circle. Sam wondered if people, like bats, also came in various shapes, and hoped he never came across such a man armed with a pellet gun…or guns.

The sun was coming up. He couldn’t see it cresting the horizon yet, but noted that the odd statues of men cast in iron and copper began to glow and glint in a brightening sky. He stopped, perched on the head of Christopher Columbus, and looked around for a safe place to roost for the day. Robins were chirping, and through the mist he saw a person walking along a path in the distance. He could smell the grass, glistening with dew, and sweet peas climbing and twisting along terraces.

“Hey! Sam Wiggle Tail! Hey! Are you going to sit there watching the sun come up?” The giggly bat teased from above.

“I need to find a place to roost for the day,” Sam replied. “Is there a barn or a cave close by?”

“You can come sleepover at my house! Come! Follow me, Wiggle Tail!”

Sam was annoyed by the nickname, but couldn’t help but follow her. Everywhere she flew seemed brightened by sparkly silver ribbons of joy and whimsy.