Wednesday, September 5, 2018

What Do You Think? Would You Read This?

I am working on a fifth novel - only about 12,000 words into it - and thought I would write something very different from what I have written in the past. Im not sure what will happen with the characters in this book. Each time I write, my characters seem to have minds of their own and drive me to develop the story as I go. These fictional beings have incredible powers of suggestion! This new book begins with a character named Grace.
 I would love to know what anyone out there thinks about the beginning. Do you think youd want to read further into the book?

If it had been up to Grace she might have thrown in the proverbial, goddamned towel years before, but she evidentially had not been afforded rights to final jurisdiction as to when the end might come, even though she possessed a very heady mind of her own; as a result, here she was, carrying on as if, indeed, there was a tomorrow. It’s not that she hadn’t considered the notion that the prerogative of ending it all, right then and there, was hers for the taking, but she had thought better of it. It would leave a mess. And, besides, she had never lusted for dubious attention. As a matter of fact, if the truth were known, the mere thought of such an impulse sent her mind reeling. For lost in a sea of memories, was a rather sordid chapter that she just as soon would have forgotten entirely if she could have. Unfortunately, with untimely, aggravating regularity recollection of the incident weaseled its way into her consciousness. That annoyance never had sat well, but what could she do? She could only visualize what had happened and then pack the memory away with all the others - and there was a litany of them - until next time. 
And now, here she was, eighty-eight and counting; eighty-eight and reminiscing; eighty-eight and regretting, grieving, and often enough, rejoicing or savoring the many morsels of her life. A non-stop scramble of thoughts, reflections, and considerations swirled like a dervish around in her weary mind. And though at times she grew tired of remembering, it gave her something to do. She had to wonder though. How in the devil did I come this far? And furthermore, for God’s sake, what’s apt to happen next?