a sneak peek (my current writing project)

Although my current writing project is unnamed, it still has a special place in my heart. And after some thought I decided to post an excerpt from it.

*nervous laugh*

What have I got to lose?

We will just call this bit; coffee & bubbles.

The cream seems to dissolve as it swirled into the coffee. I pull the spoon out of the cup and smile. I dip the wet spoon into the sugar dish. I smile again. There's no one to scold me for this silly act. There is no need for this silly act, but I do it none the less.

The smell of coffee fills the room as I bring it into my bedroom.

Oh, my dear lovely caffeine.

The coffee brightens up my morning as I sip it. I close my eyes once more and savor the the wonderful brown liquid. I sip it again and feel the warmth fill my body.

The October chill seeps through the walls in the bedroom. I look out the window. Beautiful colors dance as the wind blows. Red, orange, green and yellow.

I hold my coffee close to my face as I watch the trees blowing in the wind. Such a beautiful day. I look back over to my laptop. The few sentences I had written look back and seem to mock me. A groan erupts from inside me. Disappointment sets into my mind.

A smile set on my lips as I remind those words I am in control. I have the power of the backspace button. The power to delete. I am in control!

I am in control, right?

My subconscious mocks me. In control? No way! I may be able to push the backspace button but I have no control over inspiration. I search for anything to stop this lack of inspiration. Is there anything else I can do?

Well, as long as I have nothing to write I will take Agatha Christie's quote to heart.

"The best time for planning a book is while washing the dishes." -Agatha Christie.

I decide to take a shot at it and start washing the dishes.

The yellow dish soap becomes bubbles as the contact the water. Sweet bubbles. Yellow bubbles. I take a handful of them and blow. They float around before allowing gravity to work. They all sink; all but one. The stray bubble dances on air. Swinging to an invisible beat. I reach my sudsy hand and catch the bubble. It pops.

I wish I could be like that bubble. Defiant of all writing rules and just dance. Swing to the invisible beat of a good story and just write.

It's a little more poetic than a normal novel but I find I like the style of it. So there it is. The first draft of an interesting piece of written work. Although I don't plan on editing it until I finish the book I would love to hear your impute.