Not So Tough and a Sneak Peek

So, that tough skin I’ve been working on…..yeah, not so tough yet.  The table of contents for the anthology from which I received my first rejection recently posted and I’ve got to admit that it stung more than just a tiny bit. I’ve spent the better part of the week (okay, the whole week) indulging in junk food and season finale TV (Supernatural, anybody?) and basically licking my wounds.  But, now I am done pouting (maybe) and I’m going to put on my big girl pants and carry on (hopefully).

So, it is time to go back to work and get some writing done.  I am shifting my focus from short stories to concentrate on the novel I’ve been working on for over a year, an as yet untitled book about a vampire and ultimate revenge.  I’ve decided to share the prologue here in the interest of developing that thick skin and getting used to sharing my writing with others.  I hope you enjoy it.


Lub-dub.  Lub-dub.  Lub…dub..

Jo lie in the overgrown grass behind the bushes that lined the running trail and listened to her heartbeat as it slowed.  Personally, she thought it sounded more like a tha-thump than a lub-dub, but her best friend Alisa was a doctor and assured her it was called “lub-dub”.  Lub-dub.  Lub-dub.  Lub…dub.  Lub…..dub.  She looked up at the sky and figured that this would probably be the last thing she would see before she died. All things considered, not the worst view, she thought, looking at the stars, thankful for the crisp and clear night. Lub……dub. She wanted to raise her hands to her throat and attempt to stop the blood which had slowed from its initial, spurting gush to a trickle from the gaping wound the knife had left in her neck, but she was exhausted. It was too hard, too much trouble, her breathing too shallow to sustain her for long. She was weak and way too damned tired. Lub………..dub. She was puzzled by the lack of pain she experienced as her life faded away, even though her body was broken and battered in more places than she could count. And her lack of concern now had her, well, concerned. But, at the same time, Jo was overcome with a sense of numbness and peace. Lub…………dub.

But suddenly, Jo was worried as she realized the most likely outcome of this peacefulness. She didn’t want to go out like this; discarded like a piece of trash on the ground in the shadows of the hedges. Nobody dies before their thirtieth birthday. Well, of course some people do, though she never dreamed in a million years that she would be included amongst their ranks. Lub-dub.  Lub-dub. Lub-dub. Her heart rate accelerated, struggling to respond to the flood of fresh adrenalin that had been released by her newly returned fear, but it just couldn’t maintain the effort. It was too late. Jo listened as it beat again; slower this time as if weakened further from its recent exertion brought on by her fright. Lub……….dub. She allowed the peace to return, welcoming it and releasing her fear for what she supposed would be the very last time. Once again, Jo looked at the stars in the sky and wondered if she was going to finally see them close up; if her soul would soar past them on its way out of its earthly realm. Lub………..dub.

Lub…………… With a final thump, Jo’s heart ceased pumping and her chest stilled. Her eyes continued to gaze upon the sky, but they had ceased to see the stars glimmering there. A single tear slid from the corner of one sightless eye.

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  1. Hugs. Rejection is tough, but it was a darn nice rejection letter. And how many subs have you sent out? Find another place to submit the story.

    I don’t know many writers who always get accepted; well except for people like King, and Stoker winners, and people who get invited to submit, but they had their share of rejections when they were starting out too. And yes, rejections suck. And they sting. And chocolate and TV help. But then it’s like riding a horse, you just have to get back on. Because every acceptance letter is like the best darn painkiller you’ve ever had. And more addicting than crack. You write because you have to, or you’d explode. I’m not kidding here, seriously, you’d explode. And you write very well for someone who’s just gotten their feet wet in this game. So go on, write some more, send some more babies out; some of them will find good homes quickly, some will be late bloomers.

    Ok. End of pep talk. Loved the prologue except for the word “that.” Please excise.


    • Yes, I know everything you say is true, Stacey. Everything I submit will not be accepted. Getting over the hurdle of the first one is, I hope, the most difficult. Thank you for the kind words and I am busy removing the word “that” from my novel right now, LOL!


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