Every November for the past 15 years, various aspirants to Literary Lionship have girded on their writing tools and thrown away their few remaining brain cells on what is known as NaNoWriMo – the Nation Novel Writing Month. The objective of this event is to see if the would-be writer can create a first draft of a 50,000 word novel within 30 days. What follows is the expurgated diary of one of these self-imposed masochi...
Those next hours were the worst and the longest I’ve known since Ponder died. I kept struggling to move forward with Jerry’s arm around my neck, his bad right foot banging against my left like we were the last pair in a three legged race. We walked through fields a good five yards away from the road and tried not to stumble. The hot still night hugged my right side and Jerry hugged the left. Sweat and blood brought o...
The size of that parking lot was the only reason Jerry got back to the drop off before they were in range. I heard their cars coming before I saw Jerry but their headlights didn’t pick him out until he reached the bottom of the drop off. Jerry spotted me and yelled “Viola” before he slung Hazard Pay up the slope toward me. Then he started pulling hi...
Jerry and I walked on, not saying anything until we were where the road sloped down to the parking lot. I could hear men’s voices arguing at the far end of the big parking lot. Jerry spoke extra soft. “Viola, will you listen to me?” I nodded. When I realized he couldn’t see me, I whispered “Yes.” “Okay, we�...
Well, the Dixons wanted to me to stay with them at their motel until morning. I didn’t want to, couldn’t afford it and didn’t mind saying so. But while I was arguing, Jerry was moving my plates and cups from the Mule to the back of their van and Gennine said they wouldn’t feel right leaving me here alone in the dark. I finally climbed in between the kids and we started up the hi...