Let Me Explain About Jennifer

I'm an insufferable copy-cat, et cetera and so forth, so when my sister posted about her newest story The Husband Choosing using the Wolverine-and-Gladiator format (go read her post if that makes no sense to you), I thought it would be fun to give you all a little more about Jennifer in the same fashion.  Please note that I'm not currently working on Jennifer at the moment-- I'm still trying to finish up The Rochesters right now (yeah, yeah, I know-- and I really should get off Blogger and onto my document).  That said, I intend to take November as my month to really get a move on with Jennifer, and I'm hoping to kinda-sorta participate in NaNo by adding 50,000 words to Jennifer.  The Rochesters had better be done by then.  IT WILL BE.

Anyways.  On to Jennifer.  Here's the scoop (and if you didn't read my sister's post, go do so or this one won't make sense).  Oh, and please note that I haven't necessarily seen all the movies these characters come from, nor do I endorse them, blah blah blah, nor do the pictures necessarily match the characters I reference, et cetera. ("What is this et cetera?"  "It means 'and so forth and all the rest,' your Majesty.")

Katniss Everdeen's parents die in a car accident soon after her nineteenth birthday, and she is left to take care of her almost-three-year-old brother Oscar (that child genius who has an IQ of 160 or whatever it was and who isn't actually a fictional character).  

This idea is not met with favor from Katniss' grandmother Margaret Thatcher, who thinks that Katniss and Oscar should move down to Florida to be with their grandparents, that Katniss should get her degree and Oscar should go to day care.  

Katniss, of course, is not going to let this happen, and after some legal negotiation which I still have to research 'cause I'm hazy on the subject, she's allowed to be her brother's guardian (not without disapproval from the Iron Lady).

Determined to settle for nothing less get started on her own, therefore, Katniss gets herself an apartment from a less than desirable landlady and starts attending a new church with Oscar, where she meets Lady Mary and Matthew Crawley, who turn out to be the kindred spirits she needed.

Meanwhile, she's enjoying the rigors of raising a two-year-old on her own, attempting to find a job, and putting up with criticism from her grandmother.  Also trying to deal with the fact that Enjolras, the chap she had a bit of a fancy for in tenth grade, just happens to be attending this church as well, which means she sees him every Sunday, and oh look, the fancy (on her part) might just be back.

Um, I can't think why.

If that weren't enough, she gets rather pushily befriended by Rose Tyler, a well-meaning young mom from her church who is the ultimate Perfect Mother and makes all her pureed organic baby food from scratch while teaching her two-year-old classical Hebrew.

While trying to get involved more with church activities so the ladies of her church will look on her a little more favorably (Oscar is her BROTHER, people-- maybe she should wear a sign informing the world of this fact), Katniss decides to participate in an older-women-mentoring-younger-women program and begins regularly visiting Mrs. Forrester as an enthusiastic Ministry Project.

Because, you know, there's totally no such thing as getting burnt out.

Also there's a stray cat in the mix.  Who hasn't been cast yet.  

Casting Key

Katniss Everdeen - Jennifer Farnham

Oscar Wrigley - Ethan Farnham

Margaret Thatcher - Gloria Young (Nana)

Mary Crawley - Mallory Kent

Matthew Crawley - Noah Kent

Enjolras - Anthony [last name to be determined]

Rose Tyler - Grace Dockery

Mrs. Forrester - Edna Baker

Anthony regarded the cat and the cat regarded Anthony.  “I’m not too good with pets, to be honest.  I had a gerbil when I was little but it died alarmingly quickly.  My dad maintains that I killed it.”

Ethan beamed.  “Anfee kill gerbil,” he informed me.

“No, he did not,” I spluttered.  “I’m sorry, Anthony, he just gets these ideas into his--”

Ethan gazed adoringly at Anthony.  “Now you kill annovver gerbil.”

Anthony gazed back, not exactly adoringly.  “Um, no.”

“Anfee kill gerbil,” said Ethan decidedly.  “Want see Anfee kill gerbil.”

“Ethan!”  I scooped him up and held him on my hip.  “There’s not going to be any gerbil killing, okay?  Anthony, I’m sorry-- he’s not usually so bloodthirsty--”

“ANFEE KILL GERBIL!” Ethan howled.  “I WANT ANFEE KILL GERBIL!”

A scarf-draped, middle-aged woman walking an expensive dog minced by on high heels (the stabby kind).  Hearing Ethan’s plea for the death of some helpless rodent, her freeze-dried face contorted into a mask of horror.  Shooting a look at me that would have done Cruella de Vil proud, she scooped up her yapping bundle of fur and scurried far, far away from the heartless young woman and her murderous child.

~the Jennifer story

1,000 Daily Challenge: Day Five

{This is the post that was supposed to appear on Friday, but I got too busy.}

Originally, when I began this challenge, I intended to write in all three of my WIP's this week.  However, after just one day of working on Rochesters, I pretty much abandoned my other two darlings and focused all my energies on Sky.  (Yes, I abbreviate compulsively.)  The poor Detectives never even had a chance.  Oh well, their time will come.  I rather consider Detectives to be my "kick back and relax" story.  It's so very nonsensical and doesn't really require much brainpower.  Just silliness.

But yesterday [Friday] I worked on Sky again (surprise!) and found myself struggling this time with bringing out what my characters are trying to say.  The two that are bothering me the most are Margot and Philippe, because neither of them are particularly open about their feelings.  In the 1,186 words I wrote, neither sibling had much dialogue.  This was partly because there was a good deal of narrative, and partly because I honestly couldn't imagine what they were supposed to be saying.  I would rather do anything than marry without affection write words for my characters that are not their own.

Have you encountered this?  Have you faced an emotion-packed scene that requires you to write what people are feeling and thinking (perhaps not in their own words, but in your own as narrator, at least) and you just don't know how to go about it?  I can't possibly be the only one.  What do you do about it?

Philippe propped his chin in the palm of his hand. He said nothing for a moment, and when he finally did speak, it was softly and hesitantly. 

 “I don’t even know why we went. How much better it would have been for him to die here, among his family, and to be buried in his own, rightful grave with a decent funeral.”

“But you went for healing from the saint.” Margot hadn’t spoken throughout the entire meal, but now she gave Philippe a quizzical look. “I’m sure there would have been healing if you had only gotten there in time.”

“So it’s my fault, then, Margot?” Philippe raised his eyes from their blank stare at the bowl of cheese to Margot’s startled face. “If we had only left earlier or traveled faster, he would have lived? If I had taken better care of him, he might have made it to Canterbury, is that what you mean?”

How dare he twist her words in such a way? She hadn’t meant that at all.

~chapter two

This Is Not Good

Point the First: I am currently writing a novel.  It's called Only a Novel.  I'm loving it.  

Point the Second: I have a deadline for the completion of this novel.  A deadline--one of those nasty, dastardly things that creeps up slowly on you, ready to pounce like a baby on a forbidden ring of keys.  The deadline isn't the issue here, though.  The issue is actually three issues--three people, to be exact.  

Point the Third: The Three Issues.  The three people who marched simultaneously into my mind, demanding that their story be told... three people who won't go away.  I know so little of their story thus far, and my first response is to tell them all to leave me alone.  After all, I'm busy!  I have a deadline! I haven't time for plot bunnies. 

But they aren't listening.  So here they sit, looking at me reproachfully.  "Finish your novel if you must," they seem to be saying.  "Keep writing... don't miss your deadline... but if you forget about us in the process, We Will Not Be Pleased."

I may as well introduce you to them, so here they are.

Annabeth Creighton

This is Annabeth, the protagonist, who looks like Judy Garland, and really that's all I know about her-- her name, and how she looks.  Well, that's not quite true.  I also know that she's fed up with the war that's going on all over Europe--including the tiny country she's living in (Republic of Something-or-other that I haven't named yet, and Annabeth wants little more than to go back to her hometown in the USA.  Don't let the picture fool you, though-- Annabeth might not be particularly happy with where she is, but she's not the weepy type.  She wouldn't just sit around and mope with her chin on her hand... nope, that's not Annabeth.  (But the picture looks like her.  So... hush.)  Annabeth isn't exactly what you'd call a cock-eyed optimist, but neither is she a Pouting Polly.  Also, she's bossy.  Did I mention that?  Especially where her headstrong little brother is concerned...

Thatcher Creighton

Meet Thatcher, Annabeth's younger brother, who was actually the first person to march into my head... but he dragged Annabeth in with him, and they seem to be inseparable.  Thatcher's fed up with the war, too, but in a different way than Annabeth.  Annabeth desperately wants to leave it all behind and go back home, but Thatcher wants to march in and do something.  The problem?  Republic of Whatchamacallit's army won't take him because of his asthma.  So he's stuck at home writing propaganda articles for his local newspaper and itching to be doing something more.  The trouble is... he doesn't know what.  (Well, I know what, but he doesn't--yet--and so you won't either.  For the time being, at least.)

Peter McTavish

And this is Peter McTavish, an American serviceman stationed in Annabeth and Thatcher's hometown... and, um, he's awesome. 'Nuff said.  Ahem.

I've done nothing more than detail the very barest of bare bones about these folks... but their story just won't go away.  Adventure, photography, espionage, World War II, journalism, disguises, daring rescues, illness, loyalty, confusion, romance, arguments, sacrifice, practical jokes, Jane Austen, wilderness survival, danger, friendship, strawberries... all that and more is rattling around inside my head, spinning itself into a story bigger than anything I've ever imagined before.  You've heard of plot bunnies?  Well, I'm calling this the Plot Heffalump.   Yep.  Project Plot Heffalump... but it's on hold.  ON HOLD, Annabeth and Thatcher and Peter. You heard me.