Mid-way through the month and I finally get my blog on

Dearest curious readers,

I am lazy. I am a perfectionist. I slack and I procrastinate, but I've got 6,000 words and plan to binge tonight and attempt a catch up. I should be at around 25,000 words which means I better be up for a Big Mac and Krispy Kremes-level writing binge, but without the actual food because then I'll just fall asleep.

So my novel. I've decided to go back and forth in time on my protagonist, Mari. The early POV begins just before starting college and through eloping on a whim mid-way through college with her eccentric, intense boyfriend Scott. The later POV is Mari in her late twenties, pregnant and confused by where her life path is taking her. That's where I am now, and have no idea where this is going. But I'll give you a few excerpts in the meantime...

From the first writing day:

I read the sentence again, You are an exceptional person and an outstanding scholar. And let it wash over me.

I fucking knew it.

I threw my head back onto the soft pink and white marbley swirls and hugged the letter to my chest. I closed my eyes, and felt every part of my body relax into the validation, the acceptance, the…

My eyes popped open. My body sat up fast and hard. I caught my breathe and felt a dizzying electric vibration course through my body until I began to shiver.

A full scholarship. All four years. In Pennsylvania. My dad can’t say shit to this. He agreed. My mom would have to face the truth. Her daughter is exceptional and outstanding. Not just in her 19^th century British prep fantasies meant to boost my self-esteem, but in reality. I’m leaving.

I’m going home.

“Maaaaamiiiiii!!!!” I yelled so loud that Chuchi actually lifted her droopy head and looked my way for a full 5 seconds before resting back onto the floor. “Mom! Mom! Mom!”

“Que pasa, Mari! For Christ’s sake I almost burned myself, me diste un susto!”

“I got a full ride to the University! All four years!”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“Mentira!”

“I swear! Look!” I leapt to my feet and practically flew to my mother, whose fingers still dripped in chopped garlic and onions.

“Aguantalo, I don’t want to mess it up!”

I read the letter out loud, my mother’s eyes widening, looking at me intensely, her head slowly cocking to one side, her eyes now narrowing then widening again. I can feel her breath stop This year we received over 10,000 applications for admission and you can feel proud to be among the top one percent of this high qualified applicant pool. You are an exceptional person and an outstanding scholar.

She cuts in, she can’t help it. “But mija, you don’t even study!”

The moment freezes. A tension builds as quickly as it washes away. “Whatever mom, I’m a genius.”

She lets out a nervous chuckle, releases her breath, relaxes into her pride. She throws her arms around me, “Coño Mari, you really are. You really are. No se a quien salistes.”