My my my, it has been a long time. I'd say the delay hasn't been my fault, that my laptop had spoiled me with it's cushy blogging feature, so when I got said laptop back and that feature was gone I couldn't stand to go on without it. But that would be only a partial truth. I'm just a flaky person. Oh well.
Remembrance is going well. I decided to put off writing much of Mouse's portion of the story until I'd gotten a better hold on what Sam's portion of the story was about. I finished my first edit of the first draft the other day, and have started on the more detailed second edit. To give everyone an idea of what I'm dealing with, I did most of my first edit at work. Fifteen minute break, thirty minute lunch, and I could get through around 25 pages a night. The other day I worked on the manuscript for two hours. And got through four pages. Out of 200. I now understand why some authors take seven years to put out a book, and I have no fricking clue how authors like Stephen King and Nora Roberts can be so prolific.
Anywho, to celebrate the momentous occasion of me actually finishing something, I figured I would share the story's (exceptionally short) prologue. So, ladies and gents, here we have it, the opening words of Remembrance:
Before the dreams and memories that weren't mine started, I was a fairly normal girl. Did well in school, liked to spend time with my friends, couldn't wait to get to college and away from the mother I couldn't stand. There were things that made my life different from most teenagers'--my parents and the life they wanted for me for one--but I still felt normal, even if it sometimes seemed like the people around me weren't.
Before the dreams I had a future. Hopes and dreams of my own. Goals and expectations for my life. But after they started, that was all gone. My future paled next to another's past. And there was always the same question. Why?
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