Monday Morning Catch-up

So much stuff. Just all sorts of odds and ends, loose flappers hanging out there after the culinary exercise of yesterday.

I got to bed later than I should have last night - nearly 10:30 - so I'm just on the narrow edge of being tired. Not really tired, just almost, aware of it.

There's no good reason for that, but hubby seemed a bit testy when I was thinking of going upstairs. Our cat, Sam, got restless at about nine o'clock and started crawling all over me. It's his normal, 'Mom, I'm tired. Can you put me to bed now?' routine so I got up to put him to bed.

'Where are you going?'

'I'm putting Sam to bed.'

'No you're not. You're going upstairs to go play on that damned computer.'

Apparently he didn't see that 'damned computer' was closed and sitting on the coffee table while I had a cat and his blanket in my arms.

'No, I'm putting the cat to bed and I'll be back.'

'Why now? It's only nine-fifteen.'

'I have a cat crawling all over me, sticking his nose in my face. He wants to go to bed. I'll be back when I'm done.'

'Good night.' in snotty tone.

Given that, it was easier to stay up than have our evening devolve into any more of a stupid argument so, despite the fact that I would have preferred to go to bed, I got Sam set up and went back downstairs.

An hour later, when I think it's safe, I get up to go to bed and he says, 'I didn't expect you to stay up this late. Nine-thirty would have been okay.'

Uh... Cat-to-bed took fifteen minutes so I would have come back downstairs, said 'good night' and had an argument if I had gone to bed at nine-thirty. Sometimes I just can't win for losing.

So I went up to bed. Got to sleep and woke up a little later because I was too hot. Blankets off, overhead fan on, reposition and fall asleep again. Then, at 12:38, some idiot in the condo complex across the parkway decided it was a brilliant time to light off left-over fireworks. Not firecrackers. Fireworks. The kind that fly up into the sky and burst, like a child's version of the real grup fireworks that go off after baseball games, for Fourth of July, etc.

Hubby came in to make sure that the fireworks hadn't woken me by saying, 'I hope they didn't wake you up.'

So many answers to that, but I bit my tongue and muttered something. I'm not even sure what, but he left and I got back to sleep. For a little while, before I got too hot (I had pulled the blankets back over me at some point).

Hot - cold - hot - cold all night.

Needless to say, the past eight hours haven't been ideal and I'm starting my Monday off a little tired. It'll be okay, but I could do with more sleep. Maybe tonight? Maybe not. It's supposed to warm up this week, into the 90's tomorrow through Friday. Oh yay. Hot days and warm nights and not a lot of good sleep.

Geez. What a whiner I am this morning!

Oh, and here's another one for you. You know that story I've been talking about for the past few days? The one with all the adverbs that's in need of a good edit?

Well, I've gotten up to chapter seven and have been taking out almost all the adverbs that I've found. I also took out all that excess back-story that isn't relevant to this one except as set-up. Now, instead of being at 119,059 words, I'm up to 119,700 something. I'm not even sure how that happened but there  I am and, at this point, I've boxed myself into a corner.

See, my MC is married and miserable in it. She's written a book about which her husband sneers and basically says 'it's crap'. Still, the book is good enough that it's gotten attention. First, on local morning programs, then L.A. and New York and, from there, she's invited to an interview in London. What she doesn't know is that the host of the London program has a trick up her sleeve.

Along with my MC, this morning show host has invited the man upon whom my MC has modeled the main male character in her book. It's the kind of prank this woman likes to play on her guests. Because the man is successful, high-profile, wealthy and famous, there's going to be traction around the viewers' breakfast tables, and friction when the trick is played, and great ratings.

My MC is introduced and the interview starts. They're in the middle of it when, from the wings, comes this man. Of course, my MC is stunned, shocked, humiliated and all the horrible sick sinking feelings anyone normal would have in a situation like that. Imagine it. You've been talking about this person, saying how attractive you think they are, that you've fantasized about them and taken your impressions of them and used them in a story. Then boom, without warning, you're confronted by them.

You can't run away. You're standing in the middle of a television studio with the cameras rolling, publicly humiliated, and you have to just suck it up and stick it out. First, you just stare at him, like Bambi in the high-beams. Then your brain kicks in - you've opened yourself up, made yourself vulnerable by speaking as you have, even though nothing bad was said. It's just that inner you who's standing naked on the stage.

This person sees that you're all screwed up and takes pity.

So that's the set-up. From there, they get to talking. She shows she has spunk and character, sticks the moment out and turns it around.

The interview ends and this man invites my MC to breakfast. He doesn't have anything on schedule that morning, he hates being bored, and he's interested in hearing more about her.

Nothing untoward, nothing too far fetched. They have breakfast and spend the morning together. While they're talking, he becomes more intrigued by her and about the stories she's written. When they get back to her hotel where he'll drop her off, he invites her to dinner. She accepts. That evening, he flys her to his villa in France - the one with the lovely swimming pool, deck and lawn. (Trust me, it's integral to the story thus far.) They have dinner, still talking like good friends.

During dinner she talks about some erotic art she included in the story that got her to where she is. There's nothing described in either story, nothing explicit, but he's curious about them, asks to see them. After dinner they go inside, she gets on the internet and shows him.

His actions, moving closer, leaning over her, almost touching her, make her nervous (read 'aroused'). He backs off and offers her a chance to go for a swim. She takes him up on it, hoping the water is cold (you know, the cold shower routine). After her swim, she goes to lie on the lawn under the stars and watch the Milky Way float by. He joins her and that's where I am, in my corner.

I have two options with this. I can make her out to be an adulteress who no one will respect. Or I can take her right up to the edge of the abyss and deny her the jumping off. Which, the more I think about this, is the way I'm going to play it.

Hey! Thank you. That was a great help and my way is clear.

I'm off to get started on this and I hope you have a lovely day!

Best~
Philippa

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