Oh, This Haunting Thriller Book of Mine!

That day, inside the school elevator ...

Level 4.

I try not to glance at the elevator door.

Try not to trigger that traumatic day, falling apart in front of Cayce. The way he dismissed me, detaching himself from the girl that I was, crumpled on the elevator floor. Gasping beneath the weight of the thickening fog, hazing my mind with a creeping color of deep, dark, sky blue. A metaphorical mouth opening wide, wide to swallow me into its abysmal hell. Declaring me guilty, guilty, guilty. 

That day, immobilized inside the restricted school elevator, I couldn’t stop the haunting horror from chewing at my heart, my brittle bones. I had lashed out. A wicked scream that bellowed at Cayce, pushing him out, out of the elevator; a scream that still echoes inside of me no matter how hard I try, again and again, to close my eyes and trust that I am okay. That my brother’s death was caused by accidental suffocation. That I’m not the guilty one. I’m not. The one. Who plotted against Zane.

Yet, I cannot help but hear those shackling words again, rattling from the childhood ghost hiding inside of me; a witness to Zane’s dead corpse:   

You could have stopped it. Zane’s blue face. Zane’s dying breath. You could have stopped your brother from suffocating to death.

If not me, then who's to blame?

That day inside the elevator, Cayce had cringed at the messy version pouring out of me. But now I’ve come to understand the reason why he pursues our tepid friendship. 

My unsettling vulnerability is a strength for him. Power over me. The weakest link ...

---

Author Renee Coloman needs to keep writing!

Whew! I hope you enjoyed reading the above excerpt from my current novel in progress -- a haunting thriller with the main character's toddler brother as the primary victim of a questionable death.

My goal is to complete the novel's revision by end of year. An achievable goal I had set for myself in January. Now, here we are in August, and I'm only a third of the way there. Yikes!

The challenge is my weakening commitment to writing time. Each day, I have approximately two hours blocked for writing. Which is never enough time. I'm happy when I can get 500 words on the page -- strong content. Not a first draft but a final revision. Basic math tells me that equates to 14,000 words a month. So, yes, August to December is plenty of time, considering the novel is approximately 85,000 words.

However, the two hour block I've set aside continues to erode, as my work days (yes, I have a full-time 50-hour per week job), along with independent marketing of my two current published books (Born of Dirt & Dust and Roxy's Not My Girl), and my newest creative expansion into writing and self-publishing and marketing hand-crafted dark poetry & flash fiction Zines, and attending weekend community vending events, I'm not meeting my goals to finish my novel.

Bummer, right?!!

It's okay, I tell myself. I'm doing okay. I'll be okay.

But the reality is, stress creeps into my physical world. I've neglected to take care of myself.

I've forgotten how to look outside and enjoy the blooming flowers in the neighborhood. How to walk along the beach, the park, the library aisles, the local bookstore. I've neglected dining at local specialty restaurants with friends, choosing instead a solo drive-through at Del Taco. From my day job, I hustle my Subaru straight home, and focus my attention on caring for my two pugs, my two birds, my two mice, and fish aquarium. I cook for my lovely pets, feed them, play with them, snuggle with them (well, except for the fish).

I read books in preparation for book club (and, also to grow my skills as a writer). I call Mom and Dad, and chat a hello to my best friends. I sweep, vacuum, clean the bathrooms. I toss in laundry, fold it, put it away. I commit to this daily routine before settling down and posting on social media and then, finally, later in the evening, revising and re-writing 500 or more words; that is, if I have the energy. Because it's easier to tell myself I can double the amount tomorrow and the tomorrow after that and so on and so on. Until I wake up and realize it's the month of August.

What just happened?!!!

Keep on writing and finish that work in progress!

So, here I am today. Writing this blog with an excerpt from Chapter 22 of my novel in progress, and I'm inspired to get the job done.

Because, now ... I've confessed my situation to you, and I fully accept accountability for keeping true to my word.

So, my friends. Ping me. Check on me. Make sure I'm keeping my promise to complete this revision of my novel by end of this year. You are my partner in this writing journey.

Thanks, Friends!!!!

Renee

rcwriter.pen.ink@gmail.com