The Worst Promposal Ever

I really didn’t get much writing done this week, and what little I did get done was actually on one of my fanfics – so it’s up for debate if that really counts or not. On the one hand it is writing, and any writing is good. On the other hand, it’s writing on a project that I’ll never be able to publish – not even through Kindle Worlds. But I love this story (I’ve been working on it since I was in High School) and even though I know I should be pouring my energy into the Descendants and The Undying Ones, it just keeps calling me back.

Do you have any stories like that?

Anywho, it’s WIPpet Wednesday once again. Since today is February 11th, here are five paragraphs from the new chapter one of The Descendants (2+1+1=4 plus one for fun). This takes place a couple of paragraphs after the first snippet, which you can read over here. Basically, despite her insistance that she doesn’t want to get married, there is someone she might have bent the rule for once upon a time. And he happens to be one of her Dad’s groomsmen.

Matthew might have been the one, many years ago. He was tall and handsome, with dark hair and blue eyes and freckles across his neck that probably covered his shoulders and back if he ever took his shirt off. He was also more than a little mysterious, rarely talking to anyone except her father, Michael, and her little brother Andrew.

She had spent many an afternoon watching him work on cars instead of doing homework. Bree had warned her to stay away, that he was trouble, but he had been impossible to avoid those first few years. If she stayed away from the garage, she was bound to run into him at the house. He was her dad’s best friend’s son after all, and Bree’s nephew. He came over with Michael whenever there was a poker night, and sometimes he would stop by just to check on his youngest cousin back when Bree and Adam had still been together.

Sometimes she had even caught him staring at her when he thought no one else was looking. There had been a little sadness in those eyes, and she had dreamed that maybe she might be the one to make it go away.

But then Julie Owens had dared her to ask him to her senior prom. She had dawdled over it until the last possible moment, and then blurted out the question when he came into the office to drop off the keys to the car he had been working on. After staring at her in confusion for a few moments, he had told her no. Feeling furious that he had turned her down, she had said a few things and called him a few names. Then she had stormed off in a huff and spent the rest of the day bawling her eyes out.

At twenty three, she was a little older and wiser now. She realized that he had probably turned her down because she had been underage at the time, and had better things to do than take a seventeen year old to a boring high school dance. They hadn’t spoken a word to each other since. She assumed he kept quiet out of fear of being yelled at again and she was too embarrassed to say anything.

It probably doesn’t help matters that she also gave him a black eye at a Christmas party two years after the prom incident – but I haven’t figured out how to work that little snippet in yet.

To read more Wednesday WIPpets, go here.

13 thoughts on “The Worst Promposal Ever

  1. Gloria Weber says:

    Oh my, things did go terrible wrong. And I think that’s a great setup. I hope you find a way to work in the black eye, because I bet that will be just as made of fail (for the character, but fun for the reader).


  2. shanjeniah says:

    Do I have stories like that….?

    Hmmn…let me see….nope. Unless, of course, you count that Vulcan woman in my head who Just. Will, Not. Stop.

    Even when I bark, “Kroykah!” at her. Then she goes looking for the Chief Engineer, and flaunts all that sizzle in a most un-Vulcan way…

    Oh. Right. You shared a snippet. Kroykah, T’Pol!

    I’ll bet the reasons behind the sad eyes contain the seeds for making them happy. And maybe these two should talk it out before they go anywhere near mistletoe? =)


  3. kathils says:

    Sad eyes undo me every time. I want to know what caused the sadness. 😦

    I do have stories that won’t leave me alone. The only cure is to write them. I figure it’s good exercise.


  4. Pax Asteriae says:

    I’m another one that really wants to hear about the black eye! Poor Vivian though, it sounds like he was a little blunt and that’s hard to take at 17, so he should really have expected her reaction…

    As to stories, well, it’s not fanfic but there’s one that’s been floating through my head for fourteen years and by now it’s more like *four* stories. Whenever I go without thinking about it for a while, it re-emerges in weird dreams instead. I don’t think it’s intending to let me go…

    But, you know, fanfic is a great way to expand on your writing as well as attracting new readers. 😉 I’d say it counts as writing.


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