CRASHING INTO ME (fiction novel) page 1

Yes I am dabbling into the world of fiction. Actually I have been working on this novel since 2003. This is my first book I tried to pen and the other books came to fruition while working on this one. I have found writing fiction to be an emotional rollercoaster and find non fiction a safer venture. As I write this novel it taps into emotions and past experiences in ways I was not prepared for and I have to take breaks. Even though the novel is not autobiographical, you draw from things you have gone through in life to make it real. So I would like for you all to get a glimpse of my first baby of 2003 (I will be using a pen name for this book so keep the secret) I will post a page a day of chapter one only. I would love feedback.

CHAPTER ON PAGE ONE




'I would not care if I died right now; this instant - instantly. It would be over. Then they would realize how cruel they had been to me; all of them would know.' Cynthia half smiled as she pressed her entire foot, not just the tip of her sandaled foot, harder on the acceleration pedal. Trees were streaming by her peripheral view in a blur of smeared shades of green as the Mazda barreled down the dark, serpentine, asphalt highway headed to no particular destination.

'I could easily do it. Just turn the wheels in the direction of any one of the pine tree groves, and let go. I could let happen what everyone else had been hoping for; for me to become nothing-- nonexistent. Who would show up in their bury-the-dead best? Fresh, crisp, high, hair doos along with newly glued acrylic nails, talons in hues of lavender, fire engine red, or the standard shiny coppery gold. Friends and family occupying pews more concerned with their looks than the dead. Coming to be viewed; paying respect to no one. Me, lying cold and still in a coffin would be just another chance for them to say, “Look at me.”'

On the car radio a slow, southern accented, baritone, voice was winding up ‘a blame and shame’ sermon. His cadence was practiced--arrogant, “There are timezzzz… in our livezzzz… when we should just be still… and listen to Godt trying to speak to ussss. Godt wants to tell us thingzzzz… but we are too busy being Godt… in our own livezzzz… to hear Him. Sometimezzzz… we just need to be still.”

Been there, done that. ONE-TWO-THREE-DIE.