Monday, July 9, 2012

sneak preview and my block

Hey guys,

I felt really weird writing everyday and I checked out some other blogs and most people didn't write every day so I decided I shouldn't. Yeah, I know :P

So, I'm up to 25 pages and 12,096 words but I've reached a block, urgh, and I'm lost. If anyone has any idea's as to how to overcome a block, well i'm all ears, but at the moment I have no idea how to get past it. There's a point in my writing when I just get bored with my story, but somehow I don't think i've reached that point yet because I still think about my story quite a lot.

I can't really call my situation a block, because I have lot's of idea's, but the part i'm at has reached a dead-end, and i can reverse and change it but I can't see anything else working better. I'll give you some background, so you understand, although no one really reads this.

Ok, so to help you understand I'll post the first chapter :) hope you like :P

Chapter One: An Abrupt Chang In Plans I groan and roll over to face the annoying monotone that is emitted from my clock. I would call it an alarm but the clock is so old that the sound that comes out of it is nothing like the computer generated sound that is an alarm today, but my ‘alarm’ is effective so I can’t really complain, though I’ve tried.
 I grudgingly sit up and get dressed. The normal background sound of my mother shouting at my brother to wake up and my dad downstairs making breakfast is so familiar that it’s almost comforting. I trudge downstairs and slop onto a seat at the breakfast bar.
 ‘Morning sweetie!’ My dad’s enthusiastic voice elicits a groan from my throat and he chuckles in reply. Even though my face is in my hands I know he’s moved so he’s opposite me. He keeps watching me and I look up in curious annoyance. The image I receive is much like normal and makes me groan again and comment ‘how are you so happy and awake at this time of morning?’
 My dad glances at the clock and replies ‘it’s only 8. When I was your age…’
‘ I know, I know!’ My tone relays my exasperation ‘ When you were my age you would get yourself up at 6:30, be on the public bus by 7 and then would have to walk to school to get there by 8’
‘AND my parent’s were asleep.’ He adds. I laugh and we get on with breakfast. At 7:15 Austin walks downstairs.
 ‘Hey Australia, what’s up?’ My little brother, Austin, throws me a death stare at the use of his nickname and turns away from me, folding his hands over his chest defiantly. ‘Naww, sorry Aust. I didn’t mean to tease you. Forgive me?’ The good thing about having bar stools is that they turn. I turn him to face me and stare at him with my eyes, which I know he can’t resist.
‘Okay.’ He concedes and I ruffle his hair and skip into the kitchen. Austin scrambles after me and tugs on my ponytail. ‘NOT!’ he screams. I turn around very slowly and stare at him.
 I make sure to give him a head start before I start after him. We are running around the downstairs and screaming after each other, him shouting back that I can’t catch him and me telling him what I’m going to do to him when I do. We have made 5 or 6 rounds of the down stairs before we are intercepted.
 ‘STOP!’ My mother’s loud boom has us stopped in out tracks and staring guiltily at each other. ‘That’s better. Now, we have 5 minutes until we leave and I expect you to be fed, dressed and in my car in four minutes, understand?’ We nod mutely. ‘Good, now GO!’
 As we turn around I stick my tongue out at my brother. Immature, maybe, but it makes me feel good, so whatever. We slip on our shoes and grab our bags. Checklist.
‘Check’ times two.
‘Check’ times two.
‘Check’ times two.
‘What day is it today?’
Stunned silence.
‘Tuesday!’ I answer proudly.
A laugh from my mother.
‘All right, let’s go.’
 Driving with my mother is much more fun than driving with my dad. Although mum may be stricter in getting us into the car we generally have a more fun ride. We listen to the radio and sing along and we chat and things like that. With dad we listen to the news and we have to be quiet so he can listen.
‘Bye Mum!’ I shout over my shoulder as I shut the door and run to meet Allie.
 ‘Oh my god, Cal, HE ASKED ME OUT!’ My stunned expression must convey my delay as she gives a sigh and starts again. ‘So there’s this guy, Brody. He came to this school about a month ago and I’ve been swooning over him for ages. He’s British an his accent is so hawt, you would love it, Cal. And his eyes…. so dreamy!’ I start to drift off as I get the gist of her message. I nod in the correct places and try and wake up my brain.
‘When did he ask you out?’
‘And what?’
I stare at Allie. It’s so unlike her to be unfocused, especially when it’s a topic she likes. She must really, really like this guy.
‘What happened?’
‘Oh, it was AMAZING!’
I smirk. ‘You say that about all your dates.’
‘Yeah but this one was special.’ The indignant look on her face provokes me to agree and comfort her.
‘What’d you do this time?’
‘Dinner and a movie.’
‘Yeah, and DREAMY!’
I roll my eyes and laugh at her.
‘What?’ Her eyes go wide and she looks at me innocently.
‘Ha! C’mon, let’s get to class!’
 As we walk to class she continues to talk about Brody. Brody this…. Brody that… Oh my god, Cal, can you believe that Brody… I agree and when she walks past Brody in the hall she gives a flirtatious smile and he grins at her like an idiot. As he passes I nudge her and stage whisper ‘So, have you booked a room yet?’ She elbows me in the stomach and we laugh and continue on our way.
The bell; saviour of all those poor children who are forced to sit in stuffy classrooms for 6 hours a day and learn. The bell is their hero, their one true love, or at least it is until they are outside with their food and their friends. Once they are with their friends the bell is forgotten and, unfortunately for the bell, when it rings next the thoughts of those poor children will be distaste.
 Toady when the bell rings I think about it neither with joy or despair, as I am going to a meeting at lunch, although I can’t really call it lunch because it starts at 10 in the morning.. Allie meets me at my locker and we start our leisurely walk to the meeting.
 ‘Hey guys! Wait up!’ Jan’s voice calls from behind us. Jan is one of my other best friends, though she’s not as close as Allie. Allie and I have been friends since kindergarten, when she saw me crying one day in the sand box and came over to comfort me. Since then we’ve been inseparable, and when Jan was the new student at our school in year 7 she kind of attached herself to us. I guess we kind of look at her as a little sister; we love her, but sometimes it’s nice to be alone.
 ‘Hey Jan. How ya going?’
That’s my Allie, never one to ignore someone’s feelings.‘I’m good. And you two?’
Jan always does that, categorising us together.‘I’m good, how ‘bout you, Cal?’
Allie knows me so well.‘I’m good.’
Short sentences are my thing.‘That’s good! You excited for the meeting?’
Eye roll. Allie can answer anyway.‘Yeah! I’m pumped!!’
Totally.‘Yeah. Last years was really good, it’s gonna be hard to beat.’
That’s Jan… always the optimist.‘Yeah, maybe, but our year’s pretty smart, I think we can do it.’
All right, all right, all right, that’s about enough!‘Argh! How are you so enthusiastic? It’s a Tuesday!
That earns me a curious glance from Jen and a half-frown from Allie.
‘C’mon Cal! Cheer up!!’
 At this point Mr. Torelli, the teacher running the meeting we were heading for, runs out the door and ushers us inside. I couldn’t hold back the laugh that escaped when he ‘ran’ out the door. Mr. Torelli is a short teacher and his feet are very small. Consequently, his run is more like a shuffle and his feet barely lift up off the ground. It may be slightly rude but I can’t exactly help it. Unfortunately.
 I take a seat and glance around me at the 20 or so other students in the classroom. I recognise a few from my classes but couldn’t name them, but one particular boy catches my eye. I don’t know him from anywhere, but he captivates me and we stare at each other, unable to look apart. Allie obviously recognises someone and she leaps into his arms and gives him a big, sloppy kiss.
This must be Brody. That’s my rational voice speaking.
Or maybe Allie’s a slut. That’s my stupid voice. Oh how I sometimes I wish it wouldn’t put ideas into my brain. My stupid voice is like a little child, the more you ignore it the less it speaks. But I’ve never been good with kids, so…
 A loud whisper breaks into my internal rant.
‘What?’ I look around and realise I’ve taken a seat next to Allie and everyone’s looking at me expectantly. I look at Allie helplessly. ‘YOUR NAME!’ she mouths as subtly as she can. ‘Oh, right, yeah. Sorry. I’m Callista, but please, call me Callie or Cal’ I smile and everyone laughs, easing the tension. We continue with our introductions around the classroom and I spy, out of the corner of my eye, Mr Torelli tapping his foot impatiently as we continue.
 As soon as the last person has finished Mr. Torelli starts. ‘All right, now that we’ve done those very long introductions,’ he pauses to give us all accusatory stares, ‘let’s get down to business.’ He glances at the clock and mumbles a curse under his breath. ‘Does everyone know why we’re here?’ He barely pauses before sighing in exasperation. ‘Okay, I’ll remind you again. This meeting has been assembled so that we can prepare for the year 12 final assembly. You select few’ he gestures to us with his hands ‘have been chosen for your talents and so this responsibility falls to you.’ The way he emphasised talent made it sound dirty, almost as if he resented us for having these so-called talents.
 ‘Um excuse me, Sir?’
The voice comes from the other side of Allie and has a strong British accent. Allie nudges me and then wiggles her eyebrows, causing me to giggle.
‘Yes Mr…’ Mr Torelli looks uncomfortable at his memory, or lack thereof.
‘Allen. Brody Allen, sir’ Brody clarifies.
‘Yes, yes. I knew that. Now, what do you want?’ His tone conveys his annoyance and embarrassment.
‘Um, I only came to this school a month ago so could you clarify, what’s a final assembly?’
‘Each year the year 9’s organise a presentation to say goodbye to the year 12’s at their last assembly, hence the title ‘final assembly’. Each year the year 9’s come up  with something creative, using photo’s and memories given to us by the year 12’s, to commemorate their contribution to the school.’ I add hastily, knowing how passionate Mr Torelli is about the subject.
‘Oh I get it, thanks Cal.’
Mr. Torelli snorts in indignation. ‘Thank you very much Callista Green, but I didn’t ask for your input.’
I only interjected because we all know that you would have gone on about it for ages! Instead of saying that, however, I subtly roll my eyes at Allie and then cross my hands over my chest in quiet anger. She pats me on the back and we move on.
 ‘Anyway, so you guys are the committee and we need to start – ‘ Mr. Torelli is cut off by an abrupt alarm that sounds over the speaker system. The alarm was a bell but one that was different to the normal bell. It was a computerised sound that went beep beep beep pause; beep beep beep pause. We all looked up in surprise and then around in curiousness.
 Attention all students, teachers and visitors. The lock-down drill has been activated. We require your assistance in making this process as smooth and as safe as possible. I roll my eyes at ‘smooth and safe as possible’. If anybody is still outside could you please make your way to the nearest building and follow the instructions of the teachers. Note to all teachers: Follow the E.W. procedure and keep everyone calm. Have a nice day!
 At the have a nice day Mr. Torelli snorts and everyone looks at him as if a switch has been flipped. ‘Have a nice day my ass-‘ I look at Allie in amazement and timidly stick up my hand in the air.
‘Mr. Torelli?’
He stops his pacing and nods at me to continue.
‘What does E.W. stand for?’
His eyes go wide before he answers me. ‘Extreme weather.’
A collective gasp can be heard from everyone around the room and one of the students in the room that I recognise from my English class asks ‘So what does that mean?’
 ‘Oh you know.’ He waves his hand in the air as if dismissing the idea as unimportant. ‘It happened a couple years ago in Cairns. There was a hurricane heading towards them and at the 5-hours-to-go mark the government issued a warning throughout the city and everyone locked down. 12 hours later and BOOM, the whole city was gone. They only sound the alarm when there’s no way to escape.’
‘Is this an Australia-wide thing?’ The question that we’re all thinking comes out of Jan’s mouth.
‘Yes. The time differs for each state though, here in New South Wales it’s 12 hours.’
 Awkward Silence fills the room and we all glance around at each other.
Let’s just chuck it out there! Welcome to the last twelve hours of your life, everyone! I realise I muttered this out when everyone stares at me with wide eyes, except for Allie who glares.


  1. My easiest solution for a block? Either start something entirely new, or, write the scenes you want to write. You don't have to write in a straight line ;) Write the scenes you can 'see' in your head, the exciting scenes, and more ideas/solutions will come as you work on that. I also find watching reality TV helps (weird, I know!) or people watching, for ideas.

    1. Ha! Thanks :)

      I've never actually people watched before but it sounds cool! :) I think I'll just try another story, I've got one on the way :P