I've been busy typing, typing, typing (yes, still...it never ends!).
I thought it would only be fair to share something that I've typed up.
Here's a scene from my new book, tentatively titled Circles Within Circles. It's about sisters, family, community, and hope. I'm in love with it so far...
There must have been times when I was the focus on the family. Photo albums and shaky videos proved that, as my first steps, words and smiles were recorded. But I don’t remember it. My earliest memories are of my mom holding Amelia in her arms, a little baby crying and demanding everything one could possibly provide. I slipped through the cracks unnoticed; Amelia was my mother’s darling. Amelia was adored starting from the day she was born, when my parents brought her home bundled in a blue and white quilt my mom had hand stitched, the exact opposite of the hospital issued blanket I had been wrapped in that Hound Dog now uses.
Once, when we were young, the two of us went with my mom to a craft show in the basement of our church. It was hot and sweat rolled down my stomach, pooling in my belly button and leaving a wet circle on my tee-shirt. I was in cutoff jeans shorts, tight and pushing against my skin. It seemed like my jeans were always strangling my belly. I was chubby, although my mom referred to it as, “pleasingly plump,” telling everyone that I had just not started my growth spurt yet.
Amelia had on a ruffled sun dress my mom made. She was always sewing dresses for my sister; a pink flowered one that billowed out as she twirled, tulle skirts stiff like ballerina’s tutu and a satin skirt cut in jagged pastel colored strips, pieced together with a belt of sequins so she looked like a fairy. That day, Amelia’s sun dress tied in two bows at the shoulder just like the two bows that hung from her braids.
We walked up and down the aisles constructed of card tables full of home made crafts; knitted potholders, bead jewelry and bags of wood chips sprayed with cologne and called potpourri. I stopped at a table full of clay charms. Little trinkets lay out on the table strung on metal chains. I was holding one, a panda with a tiny red heart over its chest, when the old man selling them walked out from behind the table.
“Aren’t you a beautiful girl,” he said and I looked up and for a brief second thought that he was talking to me, ashamed of my mistake when I saw him looking at Amelia. “Where did you get all those freckles?”
Amelia smiled up at him, while I clutched the panda tight around my hand so that just the chain was hanging down. My mom was busy looking at a booth further down filled with candles. I wanted to put the necklace in my pocket and run away to the playground outside and hide in the tunnel, fastening the necklace around my neck.
“A pretty girl deserves a pretty necklace,” he said turning back towards the table. “What do you say I give you this necklace?” He selected a little brown deer with white spots on its back just like Bambi. Amelia nodded and he opened the chain, putting it on her.
I pushed forward so I was right next to Amelia. I opened my hand, letting him see the panda that I loved. He grabbed it and I waited for him to drape it around my neck like he did with Amelia. “Oh, we need to make sure we pay for stuff we want, not just take it.” He placed it back on the table taking time to straighten it out nice and neat.
“There you are, girls,” my mom said coming up to us and ushering us along. I turned back to look at the panda necklace sitting on the table and then at my sister, with the little brown deer lying on her slim neck above the dress my mom made for her.