I can’t believe I didn’t post anything last Thursday or on Saturday. I’ve been writing, really I have. I have also been doing a good deal of reading. Mostly, though, I’ve been trying to solidify my plot so that I know my protagonist’s motivation. This is super important to have nailed down so that I can continue to make sure she’s making the right choices. Right now I’ve written a lot scenes where things are happening to her. I haven’t written the accompanying scenes where she responds.
This is s scene where I am attempting to put in to play the ways in which she’s transformed as the story as been told. Its funny because I know how she’s transformed, I just haven’t written the process of her transformation. As usual, this was inspired by a class at Writing Pad.
Daddy looked at me, and I tried not to flinch under his gaze, though it felt like a strong hand on my shoulders trying to make me submit.
Don’t look away. I didn’t. I peered into his eyes and could see the shape of my balding head and curvy figure in the reflection of his pupils. I could see the confidence radiating from my skin while standing my ground. His eyes shifted from anger to confusion. He looked away first.
“Who are you?” He asked. “Where did my little girl go?”
The question kicked me in the heart. I steadied my knees to not fall over. “Daddy, I’m right here. But I’m not a little girl, anymore.”
He shook his head, a grimace replacing the look of confusion. “I don’t want to hear anymore about how much you’re not a ‘little girl’ any more. First, that boyfriend, then you’re friend Michelle disgraces the Reverend and her whole family. This place is no good for you, LIbby.”
“Daddy, Michelle is not a disgrace to her family. She’s just gay. And Troy has nothing to do with me standing here, right now.” The words were out of my mouth without a thought. “I don’t know what you think I’ve been doing….”
“I know what you’ve been doing. Sneaking out, staying out late, driving to Barstow. You’re dead mother isn’t going to make you see.” He looked hurt as he said this but didn’t stop. “ I was the blind one. I called your grandmother. You’re going to stay with her for the rest of the year.”
The second the words came out of his mouth I was racing out of the front door. The gold and pinks of the setting sun hit my as I moved on to the street. Behind me I could hear him yell, “I should have done this the second Dr. Oh told us about your condition.”