I've mentioned this before.
Well, let me clarify: I have begun to many, many books in the past. I've only completed three. I no longer have any of these because I wrote them in third grade and they were horrible and somewhere around seventh grade, I trashed them. Part of me still wishes I had them (even though I'm quite certain that I could recite them to you) but another part of me is really, really glad that no one will ever know those jokers came from me.
Anyhow, I've got about four that I have the first few chapters written currently. I've got a good feeling about these. In other words, I think they'll make it past the first few chapters and I don't think they'll end up in the trash. Writing is a release for me; I will start to think about a plot line and eventually I will get so distracted that I have dreams about it and can hardly carry on a conversation until I get it written down. If we've ever been at dinner and I started writing on napkins, I apologize.
To write these books, I normally take a general story in my life and either make it more interesting, or make it turn out the way that I wish it had. One of them that I'm writing is about this guy that used to live in the building beside mine who was cuuuuuute and it's about how we met and fell in love and blah, blah, blah. Did I forget to mention that the majority of the stuff that I write is chick lit fluff? Yeah. You write what you read, and I'm up to my eye balls in chick lit.
Cute Boy Next Door is beside the point.
The point of this is to put some stories out into the void and hopefully make my four readers giggle a bit.
One of the plot lines that I have whirling up in my head is about a week at the lake with my dad's side of the family.
We did lake weeks for about a five summers straight and then quit until this past year. I'm already looking forward to Sanderson Extravaganza 2011. Y'all, these jokers are epic. It's a miracle the earth doesn't implode when you get that many Sandersons into such a small vicinity. And we're talking about expanding the week into extended parts of the family and renting houses near one another. That's when the world is going to implode...
My best memories of my childhood involve these lake weeks. My most cherished thoughts of my cousins come from the time we spent together on the water.
One of my favorite memories involves a younger cousin and a telephone.
This past year I took a few days off from work and summer school and headed to the lake. A friend of mine texted me saying that he was coming into Raleigh the following weekend and would love to meet up. We also arranged to have a little phone date (nothing serious, we just hadn't talked in a while) the following evening.
The house we rented was in the middle of no where. Actually, find the edge of nowhere, go five more miles, and you'll hit the lake house. Time Warner Cable refuses to drive a truck out there, so the house is without cable or internet. There were about 4 pockets of cell service that we found that week; one of them was sitting on the steps leading from the screened in porch down to the water. About 9 pm, I sat out there and talked to Friend. The younger boys (I have five younger cousins currently ranging from the ages of 11 to 7) were shipped off to bed about that time and so while I was on the phone, I had to excuse myself from the conversation to pass out kisses. Friend thought it was cute and he enjoyed hearing my stories about the boys after they went to bed.
About ten minutes later, my youngest cousin managed to sneak out of his bedroom and came to curl up in my lap. Youngest didn't speak much while I was still on the phone with Friend, but the minute I hung up, Youngest asked me,
"Bekah, when are you going to marry him?"
I then explained to Youngest that just because boys are girls are friends doesn't mean they love each other that way and I had no intention of marrying Friend. Youngest asked some more questions along those lines and eventually I just put him to bed instead of divulging the 411 on what it's like to grow up.
About 24 hours later, my phone rang again. Ironically, the friend that I had spoken to yesterday is one of two males that share a name in my contacts list. I hadn't put a last name with them because their area codes are different and that was how I differentiated between them.
Youngest Cousin, however, didn't know my little trick.
He got to my phone before I did, read the same name of the friend that I had spoken to last night, and figured he would answer it for me.
"Hi. Bekah doesn't want to marry you and Mama said that you only can talk to people on the phone that you want to marry. Good bye."
Needless to say, Friend #2 was quite confused.
I wish I was kidding.
I'm pretty sure this one is going to end up in the book.
Words cannot describe my family.
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