Excerpt of the Week #2

Fishing through the pile of guest posts and creative non-fiction I’ve been working on this week, I felt inspired to share an excerpt from my young adult novel manuscript. I recently decided to switch the perspective from third person to first person, which had the somewhat unexpected effect of taking me way back in the editing process — if it’s not a first draft all over again, it’s nowhere close to a final draft, either.

I love intense, well-written fight scenes — think the Nate-Brenda breakup scene from the HBO series Six Feet Under (disclaimer: contains excessive profanity and, of course, spoilers) — and I worked for a long time on this one. Of course, switching the perspective forced me to tear much of it down and rebuild. Here’s a piece of the new scene:

John rubbed his eyes with his palms, letting out a long breath that puffed his cheeks out around his lips. Just a few minutes earlier I’d wanted to stand my ground in that room until I’d saved our love somehow, but now all I could think about was getting out of there. My heart was growing little tendrils, reaching out through space for somewhere warm and safe and, most importantly, nowhere near John or his house. I needed to find Claudia.

“Look, I have to go. I have plans with Claudia later.” I settled my messenger bag across my shoulder and turned to walk out the door.

“Mariana, hold on.” I turned around, tried to keep my eyes cold, felt my body tense as he stood and walked toward me.

“Can I have a hug?”

“Why?” We stood facing each other in the doorway for a moment, waiting to see who would blink first.

— from Standing on the Precipice (YA fiction)

For previous Excerpts of the Week, click here.

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Excerpt of the Week #1

This week I’m introducing a regular feature I’ve had on my mind for quite a while. With Excerpt of the Week, I’ll share around 100 words from one of my active projects every other Friday. You’ll be able to find them all by clicking here or following #ExOTW on Twitter. Feel free to share your own excerpts in the comments!

I thought of my apartment, the stairs creaking and flexing as I hauled my feet up the two flights to my door with its three locks and its crooked lettering bearing the characters “3F.” Soon, I told myself. Soon. You’re almost there. Outside, an ambulance shoved its way through a line of cars. I tried to steal a look into the yellow-illuminated interior, where I could see a paramedic moving to and fro, head down. An ex-boyfriend had called this habit sick, voyeuristic, but in truth I was feeding my anxiety, trying in vain to see if everyone was okay.

— from The Test (flash fiction)