So today I'm doing something I'm normally too chicken to do - posting an excerpt from my WiP.
This sort of goes along with the Let the Suck Flow theme from Monday. I often have moments where I wonder if I'm the only one who'd ever enjoy what I've written. Sometimes I crack myself up and I think, Geez, was that really funny or am I just insane?
It goes the other way, too. Sometimes I think something sucks, but it's really not so bad. So if this sucks, then this is me letting the suck flow. All I'm looking for is your honest opinion. Would you be interested in this book based on this one excerpt? Is it worth it to write the rest?
Let's set up the scene: my female mc Kelsey had a small mishap with a kitchen knife that landed her in the hospital, only to find out she may have a serious health problem. She's talking to her best friend David, who she's recently been having some more-than-friendly feelings for. Here goes:
“Then what were you thinking?” David asked
I felt a lump form in my throat again, and I wished I’d had more sleep so I could switch off this annoying, weepy Kelsey and locate my backbone. “That I was scared. That I didn’t want my life controlled by some illness, and I didn’t want to be The Sick Girl. That I didn’t want to burden anyone. That—” I was dangerously close to crying now, so I tried to divert the onslaught by taking a breath and making a joke. “That I didn’t want to die a virgin.”
David laughed, a nervous laugh/cough combination that told me I’d succeeded in lightening the moment, and also making him slightly uncomfortable. “Wow. That’s, uh, that’s deep, Kelse.”
I shoveled more soup into my mouth for the sheer purpose of having something to do. Something told me he wanted to stay far away from this topic, so naturally, I had to pursue it.
“Wouldn’t you think about it? If you thought you might be—” My breath caught in my throat, and I had to fight to push the rest of my sentence out. “—Seriously ill? If you thought you might… never get to?”
He ran his hand back and forth over his hair and cleared his throat. “I guess.”
That’s when everything clicked into place like the final piece of a jigsaw puzzle. His fidgeting, his sudden change in demeanor, the guilty look on his face. David didn’t have to wonder what it would be like to die a virgin.
He wasn’t one.
I blinked. “Oh,” I said softly. It must have been the only word in my vocabulary at the moment, because I said it again. David’s ears turned bright red and he looked at the floor, the ceiling, anywhere but at me. I concentrated on breaking up a piece of chicken with my spoon, wondering if it had been Amy Heffernan who’d done the honors, or Isabel Rose, or some other girl I didn’t even know about. I wasn’t going to ask him. It was none of my business, and knowing wouldn’t have made me feel any less betrayed. I knew it was a stupid thing to feel, but it spread through my body like the flu nonetheless.
So what's the verdict?