Friday Snippet

Friday Snippet #37

Monica La Porta, , , 6 Comments

Zen Moment

And here I am. Again. Sunny! All in all, another great week. Last Sunday, I posted my first video on YouTube. It was only possible thanks to my hubbie who patiently shot the video and then cut it and made it pretty. I’ll let you know that I look fat, but my accent is exactly right, and it was a surprise for a friend. In other news, I’m still exercising or walking every day, and I feel full of energy. Meanwhile, sales of my books have slowed down as expected, but I reached 51 paid downloads and that’s another new record. Plus, I’ve added a few drawings to my didlr page.

From All the Rainbow’s Colors:

By lunch time, I’m starving. I hide in the backyard, hoping nobody is going to find me, but there’s a couple sitting on my bench. From a distance, I can only see a pink cloud happily floating, but as I walk closer, some purple appears. Normally, I would leave them alone, but today I don’t feel magnanimous.

“Hi, Rachel. Hi, Matthew.” I sit on the bench, forcing them to scoop over.

“The backyard is big,” my sister points out.

“Hi, there, Ludmilla,” says Matthew, smiling his fake smile.

Everyone knows I hate being called by my name. Everybody. It’s moment like this, when I feel the urge of telling Rachel that Matthew doesn’t care for her. But, I would only be mean to her, and she wouldn’t believe me, anyway. Nobody would believe me.

“I normally seat here,” I answer my sister.

“Yes, but there is a bench over there.” Rachel is trying to be nice about it.

“I prefer this one, but thank you.” Maybe, just maybe, if Matthew hadn’t called me Ludmilla, I would’ve left.

“You are too… odd,” Rachel says, but she gets up and leaves, with boyfriend in tow.

“Thanks,” I answer to what she said, not to the fact that they are leaving.

It is true. I am odd. At the beginning, when everything started two years ago, I got scared. I was fourteen, and the colors used to give me horrible headaches. The army of doctors my parents contacted told me I don’t suffer from migraines. I’m not that sure, since I’m the one feeling the pain, not them. After countless hours of useless tests, the last specialist, a big-name professor who flew from another district, took a look at my brain, and said, “I have never seen anything like this.” And nothing else, just like that. No explanation whatsoever of why I see the colors.

Friday Snippet #37

Friday Snippet #36

Monica La Porta, , , , , , , , , 4 Comments

WP_20130322_017Another week, another snippet. It snowed during last night and part of this morning. Lunchtime now and this is the view from my desk. Considering going for a walk with Nero, but it’s quite chilly outside. Great news regarding Prince of War: Amy and I are working on its last chapters. I’m going through her corrections and positive we should reach the end soon. My rewriting of Her Book is almost done as well. I changed a few things at the very end because I’m tired of YA or NA (the new flavor of Young Adult, New Adult) following certain rules. Rant aside, the story makes more sense now.

I was a guest on Tweep Nation Podcast last Sunday and had lots of fun. Thanks to the promo for The Priest, and everybody who helped me on facebook and twitter, I sold forty-six copies of my titles. Forty-two of The Priest. Two of Pax in the Land of Women. Two of Linda of the Night. Again, it’s a big accomplishment for me.

For this week snippet, I’ve decided to post what follows directly after the last one. From the YA paranormal All the Rainbow’s Colors:

“Why don’t you wear something… sunnier?” Mom asks from the kitchen.

I make a pirouette while walking down the hallway, and I let my black multi-layered skirt fly all around me, along with the matching black, beaded scarf.

“And, what about that heavy dark makeup on your eyes?”

“Mom, it’s how I feel today,” I explain, already outside the door.

Rachel is laughing; I don’t care. She wouldn’t understand, anyway. She has been neon-pink for more than a month.

“Are you going out with Matthew, later?” I ask to make conversation before we transit.

I hate the transit. You are yellow when you open the door, and then you come out blue. Like this, in a second. Your molecules are broken down, and rebuilt back together, and you are a different person at the end of the transit. Dad says that it isn’t true, that I imagine things. They, Mom, Dad, Rachel, don’t see the colors trapped inside the black void of the transit.

“It’s our turn,” Rachel says,and points at the couple in line before us disappearing behind the door.

Friday Snippet #36

Friday Snippet #35

Monica La Porta, , , , , , Leave a comment

Dandelion BluesSunny again in Seattle, which in a way matches my mood. This week was eventful, but productive. Monday, The Priest’s spotlight ad on Kboards was definitely a success and several bloggers were nice enough to play along. I moved 30 copies and it’s a record for me. I know the number won’t sound impressive, but it is for an obscure indie like me. The first book in The Ginecean Chronicles will be $0.99 until Monday, then it will be back to $2.99. The editing of Prince of War is slowly getting to the point where I can see the light and for that I’m happy too. Meanwhile, I’m still rewriting Her Book. Gaia’s story is a bit of a challenge, but the more I work on it the more I like it. For several reasons, I woke up every morning of the last seven days at unholy hours. First, it was Nero. Then, it was the security system’s battery setting off between 2:00 and 3:00am. Today, I had my first espresso at 3:15 am, apparently for no reason at all. It’s 5:00pm and I’m about to crash any minute now. But before posting my snippet, I’m happy to announce I’ll be on the Tweep Nation Podcast this coming Sunday the 17th at 6:00pm CDT. That is if I manage to sleep from now till then.

And now, for this Friday snippet, here are the opening lines of a project I started a year ago and abandoned. From the unfinished YA paranormal, All the Rainbow’s Colors:

It’s too cold to walk today. I look outside the window and there’s nothing I could be interested in. I should’ve my breakfast, but I can’t find anything I like. Today, I feel blue. Yesterday, I was orange.

The lady who lives in the complex in front of mine is already out. Normally, she comes out later. I lean out to have a better look at her. Yes, she’s definitely pastel pink. I’m tempted. I want to call her. Then, I remember I shouldn’t. I let her disappear behind the corner. I start to feel the first pangs of hunger. What can I do? I can go on until lunch, I’m sure. And then what? My nose is stuck on the window when I see it.

A color explosion. Melancholy Blue. Happiness Yellow. Rage Red. Tranquility Green. Falling in Love Pink. I can’t resist the call. I outreach my hand, and I splay my fingers.

“Milla! You are going to be late, again,” my sister, Rachel, calls from the hallway.

I close my hand in a tight fist.

“Milla! Hurry up. I’m done waiting for you,” Rachel adds.

“I’m coming,” I say, but I am still looking outside with longing.

Today, I don’t want to go to school. If it weren’t so cold, I’d walk. Walking charges me with positive energy, and when I finally step inside the classroom, I’m all yellow. When I’m yellow, school hours are bearable. Teachers aren’t boring. Students aren’t horrible. When I am yellow. But, today I woke up blue.

Friday Snippet #35

Friday Snippet #34

Monica La Porta, , , , , , , 1 Comment

In the middle of an awesome blog giveaway, while writing guest posts, and studying how to market my books, my father called and asked me why I didn’t post a snippet last Friday. I forgot. So, in his honor, here is a piece from a novel set between Rome, Seattle, and Pantelleria. I’ve been rewriting this manuscript for the last four years, and hopefully soon I’ll decide it’s finally ready to be sent to my editor.

Mare, Mare...

From Her Book:

One day, after lunch, I noticed that Giulia had left pencils and papers by the stone bench facing the sunflowers’ row.

“Do you still paint?” I asked. We were drinking espresso under the pergola.

“I come here mostly to paint. I’ll show you my latest drawings.” Giulia went inside only to reappear a moment later with a thick stack of papers. “Here, take a look.”

I leafed through the drawings, mostly black and white representation of the view from the house, a few of them architectonic details of the dammuso itself. A column, the archway, terracotta vases. “They’re beautiful.”

“Pantelleria is beautiful.”

“Do you still paint?” she repeated the question for me.

“Not like I used to.” My eyes went to the capers flowers cascading from the trellis, their alien shapes begging to be sketched.

“Let’s do it.” As if reading my mind, Giulia passed me colored pencils and paper.

We spent the rest of the day walking around, looking for objects to immortalize. The night came and I had filled several sketch pads with prickly pears cacti and bright yellow broom fields.

The morning after, Giulia found me in the kitchen, still drawing. The first light of dawn had woken me up and I had gone downstairs for a cup of espresso. The sea framed by the wooden window was picture perfect. “I had to draw this.” I smiled at her.

“What do you think about touring the island on my Vespa? There’s plenty of interesting spots.” Giulia went to the moka to fill her cup.

“At one condition.”

“Which is?” She turned to look at me.

“Only if you let me drive.”

“All yours.” Giulia tilted her head toward the dusty-pink Vespa anchored to the wall just outside the kitchen door.

I removed the chain and the rusty lock and straddled the seat. “Are you coming?”

Giulia got a bite out of a succulent persimmon, wiped her mouth on a napkin, and followed me outside. “Let’s get off of the beaten path.” She sat behind me and we left. “I’ll show you a place where tourists never venture.”

“Cool.” I followed her direction and drove the Vespa unhurriedly, toward a winding road that looked more suited for goats than wheels. “Are you sure?”

“Park here and we’ll go down by foot,” Giulia instructed me.

I stopped the Vespa under a tree and I secured it to its trunk.

“Be careful where you walk, the gravel on the road is treacherous.”

She hadn’t finished saying it that my flat-soled espadrilles slid on the gravel and I fell on my butt. Giulia looked at me and started laughing. “Care to help me?” I couldn’t help to laugh all along. It felt good.

Friday Snippet #34

Friday Snippet #33

Monica La Porta, , , 6 Comments

Gaia OcchioToday, the sun is shining and I went for a 2 hours walk with Nero. More of a slow procession than a real stroll, but he was in the mood for sniffing at the same leaf for more than it was appropriate and I had my kindle with me. All in all, it was a success. As I feel it was the rest of this eventful week.

For this Friday’s snippet, I have decided to post a small excerpt from the original version of Linda of the Night.  As I said in a previous post, Linda’s tale was written as a bedtime story a father narrated to his daughter in my fantasy, Magical Glasses. Erratic at best, Magical Glasses was my first Nanowrimo project. I finished it at 56k words and never looked back at it. Until I remembered the story of the ugly girl who lived isolated from the rest of the world because of her hideousness. This is how Linda’s tale was introduced:

“Today, I was walking through a dusty street crowded with stalls selling all sorts of things, when I saw an old, older than old, ancient lady with a face full of wrinkles, so many of them that it looked like she had a spider web on her face. She looked at me and asked if I wanted to hear a story.” Dad paused to let Luce make her usual comments.

“And you said yes.” Luce laughed.

“And I said no!” Dad laughed too and then waited for her reply.

“Why?” Luce seized one rosette without noticing. Mom caressed her hand to relax her fingers.

“Because you should never say yes the first time a bruja offers you something. They always, always, want something back from you.”

“So, what did you do?”

“I asked her directly what she wanted for the story, and then I said yes.” Dad loved the dramatic pauses and sometimes Mom complained out loud he overused them, but Luce could never have enough.

“What did she ask that you said yes?” Luce mangled another rosette. This time Mom let her be.

“The ancient bruja asked me to tell her a story in exchange for her tale.”

“What story?”

“I told her the story of when I saw you for the first time. I described the joy I felt when you held my finger with your little hand. I told her that I’d travel to the end of the world for you.”

“What did she say?”

“She said that a love so big deserved a gift.”

“What gift?”

“She told me the most beautiful story…”

Friday Snippet #33

Friday Snippet #32

Monica La Porta, , , , 5 Comments

Not even 9:00 in the morning and I’m already done with my weekly appointment with X. I redeemed Boarderlands’ codes for my husband—someone has to do it. Called the vet because Nero can only drink warm water, otherwise he throws up.  I even went around the house and did some chores. It feels rather satisfying.

More or less, the view from my desk this morning:

The View Banner

From X:

Without moving a single muscle, she looked up. A kid was looking down at her. Big, blank eyes staring at hers. The boy didn’t express any emotion in seeing her. His face was a mask sharing nothing with the rest of the world. The absence of any recognizable reaction scared Allegra more than anything else. The moment stretched until it was impossible for her to maintain the lock on his gaze. She blinked. And then she recognized the kid. They had met yesterday. Or the day before. Or one hundred years ago. It was difficult to think. He was the boy at her house.

A subtle pressure on her side told her Julius had reached the same conclusion, probably several heartbeats ago. The boy kept staring at her, through her, as if she were nothing more than air. Finally, when she thought she couldn’t hold the scream inflating her lungs anymore, the obsidian eyes revealed consciousness. It was brief. No more than a breath, if she were breathing. A glimpse of recognition flickered behind eyes that were hazel and warm. Hope colored her hazy thoughts. Then, the blank stare was back. A blink later, the boy was gone.

Friday Snippet #32

Friday Snippet #31

Monica La Porta, , , 4 Comments

The sun is shining upon this small stretch of Northwest. I’ve been dieting and exercising the whole week and I didn’t have a single headache. I haven’t checked my weight on the scale—according to the app I’m using, I’ll be three pound less in two years anyway—but I do feel lighter. Since the day promises to get better, after lunch, I’ll go out for a walk with Nero.

From X:

Allegra was already out of breath and looked at the steep climb with dread.

“To the right!” Julius pulled her out of the path and they fell on the ground and were swallowed by the tall grass. “Stay low.”

Heart pummeling against her ribcage, she kept her eyes on the brown dirt. “What is it?” Then she cleared her nose and the scent of the looters reached her nostrils. They were coming from the Royal Palace, but still on top of the hill. She was scared, but didn’t want her aura to show it. She forced her lungs to work and breathed in and out a few times before saying, “Did I tell you lately how thankful I am I got paired with an unseer?”

He squeezed her hand. “Of course you are.” If he had said out loud, “Good try,” it wouldn’t have been clearer.

The looters were descending, running toward them, but apart from the noise their shoes stomping on the ground made, no words were spoken. It was unsettling.

Julius pulled her closer to him. “They won’t find us.”

She smiled against his shirt at his attempt of calming her. A small pebble pocked her right tight and she focused on the discomfort rapidly morphing into pain. The ache grounded her in the moment and didn’t let her think of what would happen if the looters saw them.

“The grass is tall enough to cover us,” he whispered in her ear.

The sound of approaching steps made her heart skip several beats.

Friday Snippet #31

Friday Snippet #30

Monica La Porta, , , , 6 Comments

Here we are again. The fog is finally gone. It rained. In the attempt of keeping the headaches under control, I started a new exercise regime and I’m checking the daily calories intake. Still alive. My productivity isn’t back to normal, but I’m working on that.

From X:

Her nose caught a scent she didn’t like. “We can’t stay here.”

“Where to?”

“Out.” She pulled him out of the bed and a moment later they were already downstairs, having mindlessly run through the bedroom where they had slept, Clarissa’s bedroom, the hallway, and the stairs.

They were at the main door, when Julius stopped her. He brought one finger to his mouth and then pointed it at the shadows dancing behind the opaque glass composing the door panels.

At the same time, the smell she had barely perceived a few minutes earlier became too strong to ignore and Allegra gagged. She stepped back, her lungs burning and her heart racing. She looked right and left, but when he shook his head, she turned toward the large window overlooking the gardens.

“Yes.” Julius squeezed her hand and they ran to the back of the room.

Allegra was lowering the handle of the back door, when she heard the sound of the main door being forced.

“There must be a treasure inside.” A muffled voice. A crack.

Julius propelled her outside and then tore through the garden, only to stop a few minutes later behind a tall bush. “Looters.”

She had already reached that conclusion. Julius’s house was going to be violated as hers had been. She couldn’t help two tears to escape her control, but was fast in drying her eyes. The sound of broken glasses reached them and Julius startled. She resisted the urge of looking back at the house to see what was happening and looked straight ahead instead. The Royal Palace dominated the view on top of the hill. “Not sure where else to go.” So many questions unanswered and no time to think about anything.

He nodded and she moved forward.

Friday Snippet #30

Friday Snippet #29

Monica La Porta, , , , 4 Comments

The fog is descending upon the houses outside my window. And it’s freezing cold. I don’t think Nero and I will go for a walk after all. Good news is my desk faces a big window. Also, it’s my mom’s birthday today. Have a wonderful 70th birthday, Mom. Love you.

From X:

“I was worried for you.” Julius moved the few steps from the wall to the bed and then sat on its edge, without coming any closer to her.

It wasn’t right. Touching for them was a necessity regulated by guide-and-guided code of conduct. Allegra felt his warmth and longed to reach out and take his hand, but she didn’t, which only increased the awkwardness. “Thank you.” Her voice came out too low.

But he had heard. “Of course.”

Of course he’s worried about me? Or what? “Couldn’t you sleep?”

“No. Do you mind if I stay with you for a while?”

She finally outstretched her hand and found his closer than she expected. “Can you help me relax?”

“Of course.” He moved on the bed to lie side by side with her, his head on the pillow, only a few inches from hers.

It wasn’t the first time they slept on the same bed. Before exams, they used to quiz each other the whole night. Sometimes, they did it just to prove they could without being caught. A few times, Allegra had asked him, like now, if he could ease her tension. Yet, now it was different.

She felt his gentle invasion at the edge of her thoughts. Spring and singing birds. The scent of washed linens drying outside. Warm breeze playing with her hair. Her eyes closed and she let him in.

“Something’s wrong.”

Words echoed in her head.

“Wake up.”

She turned the other side.

“Allegra!”

Hands turned her over.

“Smell the air.”

The request was repeated twice before she managed to open one eye and find Julius sitting on her bed. Memories of a few hours earlier rushed in. “What’s going on?” But she had already activated her senses. “I can’t feel her.” Clarissa’s smell was gone. She inhaled deeply and then shook her head. “I can’t feel any of them.”

Friday Snippet #29

Friday Snippet #28

Monica La Porta, , , , 5 Comments

Days fly by. Lots accomplished, but nothing to show apart from a variegated production of didls. In other and exciting—for me—news, I have a brand new workstation! Also, outside it’s frigid but sunny.

From X. Allegra interacts some more with Julius and his family:

“Why didn’t you leave?” Allegra asked Julius’s father.

“I can’t leave the King alone, and Caterina and the kids didn’t want to listen to reason. I gave the staff permission to leave, but Chef insisted she wouldn’t abandon us. So, here we are.” Carolus’s eyes went back to the mansion.

Only then, Allegra noticed how far into the gardens they had walked. The lights spilling out from the majestic windows illuminated the immediate surroundings, but ahead of her it was barely possible to make out the silhouettes of the topiary. She shivered.

“Let’s go back inside.” Carolus took off his jacket and draped it on her shoulders.

She accepted with a thanks without explaining she wasn’t cold. The darkness swallowing the night had frightened her. Not for the first time, the thought that Julius could only see a black canvas if left alone made her feel hollow.

They walked back to the house in silence. Not a sound interrupting their thoughts.

“Is it cold outside?” Clarissa was at her side as soon as they entered, one hand on hers to steer her away from the glass door and her father. “Come to the fireplace.”

Julius, who was still talking to his mother, excused himself and without faltering reached for Clarissa still looking at her. “You look pale.”

His sister immediately lowered her eyes and Allegra repressed a gasp. Julius had breached one of the unspoken rules among unseers. The act of looking at someone to talk to someone else was considered one of the worst faux passes. He had never done that. He wasn’t the type to forget about social dictates.

And he didn’t seem to realize what he had done. “You look distressed.”

“It was cold outside,” Allegra lied.

Julius left Clarissa and took Allegra’s hand in his. She couldn’t help to glance at the girl and see she was trying to disappear into the background.

His fingers circled her wrist in response to her pulling away.

Friday Snippet #28